Face of the Unknown
by PunkyStarshine
Summary: Something strange is going on in Rosewood - even stranger than usual. Myka and H.G. come to town to investigate whether or not there could be an artifact involved in the Liars' latest drama. Pretty Little Liars/Warehouse 13 crossover multi-chapter fic with established Bering & Wells and Paily pairings.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Hello, hello! This will probably be my only AN in this story, barring anything major, so I thought I'd make it a good one. A few things to know before reading: 1) It's a Pretty Little Liars/Warehouse 13 crossover fanfiction. 2) It's set in the PLL universe, and takes place in the days after the Halloween episode of Season 4. Unless by some Christmas miracle PLL and WH13 join forces, the start of 4B will contradict everything I've written, but that's okay. 3) In this universe, H.G. has been reinstated as a Warehouse agent. 4) This is a multi-chapter fic. It was based on a prompt I received from Heather Anne Hogan long ago and was written for NaNoWriMo this year (2013). That is to say, it is long, but it is technically complete. It will still need some editing, which is why I'm posting chapter by chapter, but unless A feeds me to Tippi the Bird, you can be sure this won't be an abandoned fic. Okay, I think that's everything. I hope you enjoy this, the fruit of my very active imagination. Without further ado, I present to you, _Face of the Unknown_._

* * *

**Chapter One**

Paige was halfway through her bike ride from her house to her girlfriend's when she caught herself smiling involuntarily. If you had asked her two years ago what the odds were that she would be heading over to Emily Field's house for a dinner date, she would have scoffed in your face. Now, here she was, a bouquet of flowers in her bike basket, and a gigantic grin on her face. As she turned the corner onto Emily's street, however, she saw something that made her smile disappear and her bike stop short. The next thing she knew, Paige was sprawled across the pavement, surrounded by loose flower petals. She quickly sat up and looked at the direction of the person she thought she saw. _You're losing it, McCullers_, she thought, shaking her head when she saw nothing but an empty street. _It's impossible. She's dead. Maya's dead. You did not just see Maya St. Germain. _She tried to will her heart to stop racing as she collected what was left of the tattered flowers and lifted her bike back to standing position. She gave her ride the once-over, grateful there was only a scratch or two, no permanent damage. As her eyes drifted lower, she realized she couldn't say the same for her pants. Her black slacks had a hole torn into them about two inches wide, revealing a nasty bit of road rash on the side of her knee. She let her eyes follow a throbbing in her elbow to see a matching mark there. She scowled at the wound. _Great. Real sexy, Paige._ She glanced at the corner once more for good measure before hopping onto her bike and setting off again, cursing herself for thinking even for a second she had seen her girlfriend's dead ex.

When Emily answered the door, her gleaming smile quickly faded into a look of concern when she saw Paige's disheveled hair, scraped elbow, and torn pants. "Paige, what happened?"

She stood back and quickly ushered her girlfriend into the kitchen, directing her to sit on a stool and going to find her first aid kit. Paige looked around at the candlelit room with a touch of guilt. When Emily settled into a stool next to her and put the first aid kit on the counter, Paige gave Emily a pitiful smile and extended the bouquet, which now looked like it had been run over by a truck. "These are for you."

Emily's eyes lit up and she looked at the flowers as though they were the most beautiful things in the world. "Thank you!" She gave Paige a quick kiss and got up, taking the flowers with her. She took a vase down from on top of the fridge, filled it, and placed it in the center of the counter. "Perfect!" She looked proudly at her new centerpiece.

When she got back to her stool, Paige was using a cotton ball to apply some antiseptic to her elbow, wincing all the while. Emily gently placed her hands over Paige's. "Here, let me."

She took the cotton ball and continued the work Paige started. Paige was surprised to find it somehow hurt less when Emily was doing it.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Oh, I just I fell off my bike."

"Just too excited to come see me?" Emily said teasingly. Paige's heart lurched. It never ceased to surprise her in the best way when Emily was playful.

"No, I thought I saw..." Paige caught Emily's eye, saw that sparkle she fell in love with, and thought better of finishing her sentence. There was no point in worrying her about something that didn't even happen. "I just got distracted is all."

Emily brought her face closer to Paige's, her smile turning coy. "Well, I'll just have to kiss you and make you better then, won't I?" Paige smiled and leaned into Emily's kiss, her fall and what caused it quickly disappearing from her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Myka reluctantly woke up to the sound of her Farnsworth going off. She groaned and rolled over, barely opening one eye and switching on the device. Before she could even muster a greeting, Artie was going a mile a minute. "We need you to come to the Warehouse immediately, there might be an active artifact in a small town in Pennsylvania you need to investigate." Myka looked at the clock on her nightstand. "Artie, it's 6 a.m. on a Saturday."

"If this artifact is as strong and active as it seems, we'd be better suited to take care of this sooner rather than later. I'm having Claudia run some analyses of the unusual spike in activity over the past few years in the area, and why it's only coming to our attention now." Claudia's face appeared behind Artie's head in the screen of Myka's Farnsworth, the purple streak in her hair standing out against Artie's grey and brown figure.

"Don't worry, I made coffee!" Claudia said, beaming.

Artie ignored her and kept talking. "Get here quickly. I just called Pete but he might have fallen back to sleep, so I would suggest making sure he's on the move as well. I have to call H.G. now so -"

"She's right-" Myka hesitated. "I'll tell her. I'll get everyone and we'll head over together as soon as possible. Sooner if I hold a donut out in front of Pete while we go."

Claudia gave her an eyebrow waggle from behind Artie's shoulder, but Artie didn't catch Myka's awkward cover up. "Hurry!" he shouted once more for good measure before his face blipped out of sight. Myka placed the Farnsworth back on the nightstand and stretched her arms, drawing out an exaggerated yawn. As she released her breath, she felt a warm body sidle up against her and nestle into the crook of her shoulder.

"What did dear Arthur want so early on a Saturday?" Helena's voice was deep and husky with sleep, sending a crackle of static across every inch of Myka's skin. She let her hand idly play with Helena's dark locks as she answered. "An artifact, as usual. Some town in Pennsylvania might be in trouble. Claudia's already at the Warehouse doing research." Helena lifted her head and propped herself up on one elbow, meeting Myka's eyes with curiosity.

"It must be pretty serious if he got Claudia up and running before us."

"And from the looks of it, by the time we get there, she'll be so jacked up on caffeine she'll never sleep again."

Helena smiled and lifted herself just far enough to plant a kiss on Myka's lips. She then rolled away and gracefully got out of bed in what seemed like one fluid motion. "I suppose we better get going then before those two kill each other."

Myka smiled as she watched Helena disappear into the bathroom and let out a contented sigh before following suit and getting up as well.

* * *

Myka and Helena walked into the Warehouse with a bedraggled Pete in tow. Rubbing his eyes, he grunted, "NOW can I have the donuts?"

Myka tossed him the bag of donuts she was carrying and smirked at him. "Good boy, here's your treat." Pete stuck out his tongue and happily dove into his breakfast. Helena poured herself and Myka some coffee while Myka got the scoop from Artie. "What's going on?"

"We got a ping in a town called Rosewood, not too far from Philadelphia. A little town with little worth noting, except that this is the third time we've been pinged from there in the past two years."

"If this is the third time we've been pinged, why haven't we been there before?"

"The pings were never definitively caused by an artifact, just an unusual amount of energy. It's possible artifacts were being created, or found but not used, or even used but destroyed before it was enough to warrant our attention."

"What's going on now?" Helena asked, handing Myka her coffee and standing beside her.

Claudia turned around from the computer she had been typing furiously on and spoke even faster than she had been typing. "So I've been looking into the electrical patterns of the town over the past two years and there is a CRAZY spike in data usage that all began on one specific date - September 1st, 2010. I'm not talking 'oh all the high school kids were given iPads for their history classes'. I'm talking technological warfare."

She popped up and scurried across the room to another computer, turning it to face Helena and Myka (and Pete, who was standing somewhat behind them, but seemingly paying more attention to his donuts than to the case). "I did a little digging, and according to the local newspapers, the biggest event that happened on that date was was the memorial for this girl who had gone missing the year before. They found her body a year later, almost to the day, and no one knows who killed her. Spooky, right?"

Myka shook her head at the overexcited techie and turned to smile at Helena, only to see her partner staring sadly at the black-and-white picture of the blonde girl on Claudia's screen. "What was her name?" Helena asked softly.

Claudia's eyes flashed with understanding and her voice got considerably slower. "Alison. Alison DiLaurentis."

Myka shifted on her feet, desperate to keep the conversation going. "So what does Alison have to do with the ping we got today?"

Claudia threw her hands up in exasperation, "Nothing and everything! I...er..happened upon some police reports," she cast a nervous glance at Artie.

"I'm not listening," he assured her with a wave of his hand. He turned and started flipping through an old book on his desk.

Claudia turned back to the agents and continued. "The police have also been unusually active in the past two years - an _insane _amount of mysterious deaths and suspicious behavior has been going on ever since this girl's body turned up. I mean an INSANE number." Claudia's eyes were wide and wild now. "And not just a lot for a small town, this would even be a lot for Sunnydale!"

Pete spit out a bit of his donut in laughter, making Myka smile, glad to know he was paying attention. Helena raised an eyebrow at Myka, not getting the reference. Myka shook her head with a smile in a way that Helena understood to mean it wasn't important. Claudia continued, "What's crazy is, wrapped up in all this mess - all the drama, all the suspect lists, all the threatening text messages that I may or may not have read a few transcripts of - are these four teenage girls. They were Alison's best friends and no one knows why, but all of a sudden, these girls who previously were barely on the principal's radar as far as bad behavior goes are being interviewed and questioned by police detectives and authorities at every turn!"

Myka considered this for a moment. "Do you think do you think they're IN trouble or do you think they're the cause of it?"

"That," Artie exclaimed, spinning back around in his chair, "is what we need you to figure out! Ladies, your flight leaves in an hour. Pete, you're staying here, I need you and Jinx to settle an argument between two gargoyles in the French Gothic section of the Warehouse."

As if on cue, Steve Jinx bounded in the room, a length of rope over one shoulder and a goo-gun in the other. He flashed a big, bright smile and tossed the rope to Pete. "Let's go, partner!"

Pete looked up at Artie, a dumbfounded expression on his donut-powder-covered face. "You mean I didn't have to get up early after all?"

After Pete reluctantly followed Steve into the depths of the Warehouse, Myka turned back to Artie. "What kind of artifact are we looking for?"

"I'm afraid we won't know that until you get there. I want you two to go and talk to the girls, find out more about what they've been experiencing. I have a feeling that whether they're involved or targeted, there's more than tho the story than Claudia would be able to uncover from top secret, sealed police files." He cast an accusatory glance towards Claudia, who in turn whistled innocently and turned back to her rapid-fire typing.

"Alright. Call us if you learn anything else." Myka looked at Helena and tilted her head toward the door. "To Rosewood?"

"To Rosewood!"

* * *

During the flight from South Dakota to Pennsylvania, Myka and Helena went over all the information Claudia sent them. She had managed to dig up photos, family members, and transcriptions of their interviews with the police over the year. While it was only the surface, by midway through the flight, they felt like they had a decent sense of who these girls were. Helena put down the police report detailing an incident involving one of the girls, Emily Fields, in which she ended up getting the better of her attacker. "These girls have been through a lot in such a short period of time."

Her voice was sad, full of empathy. Myka put down the paper she had been reading as well. "It's really no wonder one of them ended up having a psychotic break and needing to spend some time in the mental health facility."

"It doesn't seem to make sense though, why these girls are being targeted or how they got caught up in all this."

Myka spread the papers out as much as she could on her small airplane tray. "It all leads back to Alison. I don't know how or why, but with the exception of the Lyndon James incident, these events all seem to involve Alison or people Alison was closely connected to.

Helena spread her papers out, too, and agreed. "It looks like at least two police officers have been caught up in the wrong side of this. It's no wonder their police statements always sound so perfect and rehearsed."

Myka shook her head. "They have no reason to trust anyone, let alone police officers, after everything they've experienced. Who knows how much has happened that they haven't bothered reporting to the police because of it. "We'll have to be very careful when we approach them, they're going to be resistant to us being there."

"Of course. Hopefully they'll be willing to tell us their side of the story."

"At least enough to get this artifact bagged and tagged. Hopefully then they can go back to living their quiet small-town lives."

"It's not all its cracked up to be."

Myka winced at the memory of Helena's time spent as Emily Lake in the suburbs.

"Well, whatever life they choose to lead, small-town or not, at least it will be their choice, and it won't be filled with constant torment."

Myka started putting papers into her bag, until all that was left on her tray table were a small pile of pictures.

"Is it me, or are women getting more beautiful with every generation?" Helena mused playfully.

"I'll tell you one thing, they certainly dress better than anyone I knew in high school. Heck, they even dress better than I do now."

"I like the way you dress."

Myka blushed. Helena took her hand and gently put it under Myka's chin and turned her face toward her, "Though I like you better undressed."

Myka's face went from blush to bright red as she returned Helena's kiss with a smile. She then turned forward again and straightened up, smoothing the front of her shirt and willing her face to return to normal. "We should really focus on the case, or Artie is going to regret the day he reinstated you as a permanent agent."

Helena chuckled at the affect she had on Myka. "Right, of course."

They both went back to studying the pictures and reports, neither of them able to hide their smiles as they did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"So, how was your dinner date with with Paige?" Hanna asked, not looking up from the toenail she was painting.

Emily was sprawled out on Hanna's bed, reading the book they were assigned for English class. She also didn't look up as she answered. "It was great; it was so nice to have a peaceful, quiet night at home, just the two of us. I wish it could have lasted forever." She was still looking down at her book, but it was obvious she had stopped reading.

Hanna put her nail polish down and looked carefully at her best friend's face as she asked, "Have you told her about seeing Ali yet?"

Emily snapped her head up with panic in her eyes. "No, Hanna, we can't tell her. Not yet. Not until we're sure."

"Em, we all saw her. She's really back, she's alive."

"I know. But who knows where she is now or when she'll come back. I just...I don't want to upset Paige. You know what Ali did to her, how Paige felt about Ali...you know how I...it's just too complicated."

"You're going to have to tell her eventually."

"I know...I'm just not ready."

"Okay. And if you want one of us to tell her for you-"

"-No! No, thank you, I know you would. But I should be the one to tell her. Eventually. I just haven't even fully wrapped my head around it, you know? It all feels so surreal. We've all seen her before, we thought it was just a dream, a hallucination. To be so lucid, so sure, that it was Ali standing there..." Emily shivered. "Han, can you close the window, I'm freezing."

Hanna studied Emily for another second before getting up to do as she asked. She paused at the window when she thought she saw someone standing in her front yard, but it was too dark to make them out. She squinted to get a better look, and a car came speeding down the street, illuminating the figure for a brief moment. Hanna gasped and jumped back from the window. Emily sat up, sharply. "What, what is it? Is it Ali?" Hanna stepped toward the window again, but the figure was gone, no one was to be seen on the entire block. She closed the window slowly, her eyes still surveying the area. When she saw no signs of life she shook her head, as if trying to shake the very idea out of her head.

"No, no. It's nothing, sorry. I just...thought I saw someone. But there's no one there, just all this talk of Ali has me jumpy." She sat back down at her desk and picked up her nail polish again. "Can we talk about something else now, please?"

Emily held up the copy of Hamlet she was reading. "Have you started this yet?"

Hanna flashed Emily her best smile. "That's what I have you, Spencer, and Aria for!"

"What, do you expect us to act it out for you?"

"That would be great!" The girls laughed and Emily returned to her book. Hanna looked down and noticed that she had painted practically her whole pinky toe bright pink. She got up to get the nail polish remover from her dresser and paused at the window once more. _Wilden's not out there, Hanna, _she thought to herself._ Wilden's dead._

A few minutes later, Emily looked up from her book again. "You should call Spencer to see where she and Aria are."

The sound of Emily's voice made Hanna jump, sending a line of bright pink across her entire foot. She pouted at the mess.

"Jeez, sorry Han."

"No, it's fine, just lost in concentration."

"Please, you can't fool me, you can do better pedicures in your sleep than most professionals."

Hanna smiled, "Good point. Just still jumpy I guess. I'll call Spencer." She dialed Spencer and put her phone on speaker.

* * *

Spencer answered her phone practically before the phone rang, her voice sharp.

Hanna sounded confused. "Uh, Spencer?"

"Of course, who else would it be? What do you want?"

"How did you? Nevermind. Em and I were just wondering what was taking so long. You said you'd be here half an hour ago and you're never late."

Spencer let out a sharp sigh. "I know, little miss Montgomery was taking forever to accessorize. I went out to the car to wait, hoping it would move her along."

"We're having a movie night, why does she need to accessorize?" Emily chimed in.

"Heck if I know." Spencer pressed on her car horn to make two short, impatient beeps. Aria's small silhouette appeared in the window, holding up one frantic finger. "We'll be there soon. Hopefully." Spencer hung up the phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat.

She turned to look up at Aria's window again, silently begging her to hurry, when she saw someone standing in the dim patch of light the window cast on the lawn. "Ian?" She said, in a barely audible whisper. Just then, her phone went off and she instinctively looked towards it for a moment, but quickly snapped her head back to the lawn. She thought she saw the figure move behind a nearby tree, towards the neighbor's yard, but before she could be sure, Aria's light went out. She turned and frantically unlocked her phone, opening the text that had distracted her from the sight. Her eyes widened as she read.

_"What's the matter Spencer? You look like you've just seen a ghost. Kisses - A."_

Spencer whipped her head around to see if there was anyone near her car that could have sent the text, but as was usually the case with texts from A, there was not a soul in sight. She looked again in the direction she thought she saw the figure disappear in and tried to figure out who else it could have been and how they could look so much like Ian, Ian who has been dead for almost two years. The passenger door opened suddenly, making Spencer jump and her phone go flying into the backseat. Aria froze, wide-eyed, halfway into the car. "Uh...you okay, Spence?"

Spencer grumbled as she leaned back to get her phone, her heart beating fast and her eyebrows tightly knit. Aria gently sat down and closed her door as quietly as possible while still ensuring she wouldn't fall out once they started moving. Spencer buckled her seatbelt like she was stabbing an enemy and peeled away from the curb. "You sure you're alright?" Aria asked timidly.

"I'm fine," Spencer snapped. "We're late. Hanna and Emily are waiting."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"I feel like I don't know what I'm looking for." Claudia's shoulders slumped in defeat as she spun around to face Artie.

"That's because you don't." Artie had his nose in a book that looked to Claudia to be suspiciously not research related.

"I've researched everything I could about Rosewood, and there's no historical event that would have triggered an artifact that I can find."

"It was probably something that was brought there, but until Myka and H.G. find out what's going on, we won't be able to determine exactly what kind of artifact it was, or how much of the goings on have been because of it."

Claudia threw up her hands. "Then what am I even doing?"

"I don't know, but it's kept you quiet for the past hour."

Claudia huffed in response, "What are YOU doing?"

"Reading this fascinating book called _Silverlock _- the main characters meet characters from history, legends, and even Shakespeare."

Claudia rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go see what Pete and Jinksy are up to."

"Oh yes, make sure the gargoyles didn't get the better of them, will you?"

Claudia made her way to the back of the Warehouse and surveyed the seemingly neverending expanse of the Warehouse. She scanned the aisles for any sign of the boys and wasn't surprised to see flashes of purple and grey off in the distance. She strapped a goo gun to her hip and hopped on the zipline, landing smoothly about three feet away from the tangle of limb and stone. With two carefully placed shots, the gargoyles froze and became inanimate again, and her fellow agents froze in surprise. She dramatically blew out the non-existent smoke from the end of her gun and said, "No need to thank me, boys."

Steve smirked and untangled his arms from the now-frozen gargoyle he had been wrestling, then clutched his heart and donned a high-pitched southern accent, "My hero!" While he pretended to swoon, Pete struggled to get his shirt free from the closed fist of his stone enemy.

"We had this..." he grunted with the strain as he continued to pull at his shirt. "...under controo-oh!" his last word turned into a yelp as the fabric of his shirt tore off in the gargoyle's hand, sending him flying backwards into a shelf.

"I'm sure you did, cowboy." Claudia laughed. "Now let's get these bad boys back where they belong and get out of here. We're kind of at a stand still on the Rosewood case, so Artie might let us loose for some lunch."

Pete lost his pout and brightened up. "Lunch! I like lunch!" The three of them worked together to heave the heavy stone figures back to their shelf and archived them before heading back up to Artie's office.

* * *

Myka and Helena stood in front of the Edgewood Motor Court and looked around while the cab pulled away. Helena spoke first, "Artie really went all out, didn't he?"

Myka laughed, "I'm sure there weren't that many options in the middle-of-nowhere Pennsylvania. Besides, it's not all bad." Helena arched her eyebrows incredulously. Myka ignored her. "Let's get checked in."

Helena followed Myka into the front office, where there was a greasy-looking old man who was missing a few teeth and staring at a small, old-fashioned television that was playing a gritty, black-and-white show with no sound. The carpet in the office was stained and worn thin in a bunch of places, and the whole office had a dank, musty smell to it. Helena leaned in slightly and whispered into Myka's ear, "Not that bad?"

Myka tossed her a reproving glance and walked up to the counter, forcing a smile and adding extra cheer to her voice in case her wariness slipped through. "Excuse me, we would like to check in. I believe the reservation is under Myka Bering."

The man didn't respond. Instead, he continued to stare unblinkingly at the television. Myka shifted uncomfortably. "Um...sir? Excuse me?"

She looked at Helena for help but Helena just shrugged, also unsure of what to do. Myka reached up and rang the little bell on the counter, but still the man didn't move. Helena whispered again, "Maybe he's dead."

Myka stifled a laugh,"Stop it!" she whispered back.

Helena stepped forward now and leaned over the counter, extending her arm in front of the man's face, waving it around between him and the television. "Hello! Sir, you have customers!" She was practically shouting.

The man barely flinched, but slowly turned toward them, taking them both in, barely seeming to care that they were there or what they were there for. He reached his hand up behind his ear and twisted something, bringing his hearing aid to their attention.

"Welcome to the Edgewood Motor Court, how may I assist you?" His voice was even slower than his movements had been, and his eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular.

Myka repeated her request in a clear, slow voice. "We called ahead for reservations? Myka Bering?"

The man slid a clipboard in front of him and slowly dragged a bony finger down the page, stopping when he reached Myka's name. "Room 7," he croaked. He slowly turned and pulled a key off a ring behind him, then placed it on the counter and slid it towards the women. "Enjoy your stay in Rosewood," he said, not sounding very genuine or as though he were speaking to anyone in particular.

"Thank you..." Myka said cautiously as she picked up the keys off the counter. Without further ado, the man slowly turned back to his television and reached up to turn his hearing aid off again.

Even after they exited the office, Helena still kept her voice low, "Must not get a lot of visitors here."

Myka looked around at the empty parking lot and the deep expanse of woods behind the motel. "No, I don't suppose they do."

* * *

Myka turned the key and tried to open the door to Room 7, but felt that it was stuck, the old wooden door warped with time and weather. She took a step back and tried again, this time putting her hip into it, and the door burst open, causing a layer of dust to puff up from the rug and a similar musty smell as the one in the main office to wash over her and Helena. Myka took a few cautious steps into the room, sending up a few more puffs of dust as she did so. She surveyed the room - yellowing, peeling wallpaper, an old dresser, two full beds with dingy olive green bedspreads, separated by a beat-up looking nightstand. Helena moved past Myka. "Romantic, isn't it?" she joked, going to toss her suitcase on the bed nearest the door.

"Helena, don't-" but it was too late. The suitcase landed on the bed with a dull thump and dust flew up into the air, causing both women to choke and sputter. Helena started laughing out an apology while Myka hurried to the window and tried to pry it open. Helena came beside her and helped her hoist it open, and they both took in deep breaths of fresh air, both wheezing from the combination of laughing and choking.

They turned and leaned against the window, facing the room and watching the dust flecks dance in the sunlight.

"So Artie got us one room, but got us a room with two beds. Do you think he's onto us?"

Helena laughed, "I think everyone is on to us. I don't know why you insist on keeping us a secret."

"Not a secret, necessarily," Myka said defensively. "I just don't want them to think our relationship will interfere with our ability to be great agents. I want them to see that we can still work together and be together and keep the two things separate."

Helena turned to face Myka. "So, if this case goes well, you think we can stop sneaking around?"

"We're not sneaking around!"

"Last week I put my hand on your shoulder to get your attention and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head in fear."

"Okay, I might be a little oversensitive about it. I just... we worked so hard to get you back in Artie's good graces, I don't want anything to ruin that."

"Myka, as long as you still vouch for me, the team will trust me. I wouldn't be here if you had given up on me, but you never stopped believing there was goodness in me, and it's thanks to you I am back on the team."

Myka smiled. "I was right, though, wasn't I? You have plenty of goodness in you."

Helena's smile suddenly because mischievous and she stepped towards Myka, putting her hands around Myka's waist and pulling her close. She leaned her mouth right next to Myka's ear and whispered, "But I can be a little naughty, too."

Myka's heart skipped a beat and her breath grew shallow. She lifted her arms around Helena's neck. "Oh, I know you can be." She kissed Helena fiercely, passionately, running her fingers through Helena's long, silky hair and feeling every curve of her body pressed against her own.

Helena walked Myka backwards to the bed, unceremoniously shoving her suitcase off onto the floor, and gently laying them both down. She flipped them over so she was peering down at Myka, whose curls were played out around her head like a beautiful mane. "So much for not mixing business with pleasure," she said, her voice low and sultry. Myka reached up and pulled her in for another kiss, the decrepit room around them falling away so that there was just the two of them, and nothing else.

Myka was pulling a black blazer over a light pink button-down when Helena came out of the bathroom, one towel wrapped around her body and using another to pat her hair dry.

"Where do you reckon we should start?" she asked, taking in Myka's outfit with an approving smile.

Myka finished giving herself the once over and turned to pick up some papers she had put on the dresser. "Well, I'm not sure where the girls would be on a Saturday, but I thought we could take a walk around the town and see what we can see. It looks like Emily works part time at a coffee shop, so maybe we can go there and see if the girls stop by. I don't want to approach them at home, I don't want them to feel cornered or attacked."

"Sounds lovely. Do you have a plan on how we're going to get them to open up?"

"I'm hoping if we tell them we research strange and unusual things, make it obvious we're apt to believe them, not matter how ridiculous things sound, they might be willing to give us a shot. They're certainly no strangers to odd things happening to them."

Myka tried not to stare as Helena answered while she finished getting dressed. "I don't know who wouldn't trust that face." Helena winked at Myka.

Myka smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking once more at the photos of the four girls. "I'm not sure they would know who to trust anymore."

Helena buttoned the last button on her navy blue vest and straightened out the light blue cuffs of her sleeves. "Hopefully we'll be able to convince them that we're only here to help."

A car horn beeped outside and both women jumped. Myka let out a laugh, "I called a cab while you were in the shower, Artie arranged for a car, but the rental place is too far to walk."

Helena laughed, too. "Looks like this place is already getting to us."

"Let's hope the rest of the town isn't quite so...eerie."

The two women grabbed their coats and headed outside to the cab, Myka locking the door behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Emily tried not to make a sound as she tiptoed around the still-sleeping bodies of her friends. Even Spencer, who was usually up with a pot of coffee long before the rest of them, was still sleeping, though her face was scrunched up as if her dream was not a pleasant one. Emily quietly pulled her barista uniform out of the duffle bag she had stashed in the corner of the room and snuck into the bathroom to change. When she quietly re-entered Hanna's room, she saw the blonde open one eye with what seemed like considerable effort. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Emily whispered. "I'll come by after my shift to pick up my bag."

Hanna closed her eye again and asked in a sleepy voice, "Do you need a ride?"

"No, it's okay, I don't mind the walk."

"I'll bring your bag..." Emily wasn't sure if Hanna had more to add to that, because her friend seemed to have drifted back to sleep. She was glad she hadn't requested a ride, because Hanna was in no shape to do anything but lie where she was. She gingerly stepped past Spencer and Aria on the floor and slipped out the door.

Once outside, she took a deep breath of the crisp fall air. The street was empty and quiet this early on a Saturday in Rosewood. She would have liked to go for a run before work, but she hadn't wanted to make any more noise than necessary this morning. She had to be at the Brew by seven, so she had been sure to leave the Marin house by 6 to allow herself time for a leisurely walk past the large houses and their well-trimmed lawns of Hanna's street. The sun was rising on the horizon, setting the autumn leaves on fire and casting dancing shadows on the ground.

She assumed it was one of these shadows that caught her attention up ahead on the sidewalk across the street, until she turned her head. She felt the stab of fear before her eyes even registered what she saw. But it was gone again before she could be sure. _I thought I was past having flashbacks..._ she thought. It was the only rational explanation for thinking she saw the man who kidnapped her girlfriend, the man she ended up stabbing in self defense. It was almost a year ago now, and while he still made the occasional appearance in her nightmares, she had stopped seeing him in every face she passed months ago.

A sudden noise caused Emily to jump, but she quickly looked around, embarrassed, hoping no one saw her start at the sound of her own text message noise. Luckily, the street was still as deserted as when she set out. Her heart in her throat, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Her whole body lightened with relief when she unlocked her phone to see that the text was from Paige.

"Morning, babe. Have fun at work. Am I still picking you up?"

Emily smiled at her phone.

"Thanks, I'll try! If you still can. I'd love to see you this afternoon."

"Sounds good, I'll stop by at the end of your shift. Can't wait to see you."

As she walked past the spot she thought she saw Lyndon, she tossed a nervous glance around, but Emily still saw only shadows on the street. She shook her head and sighed, releasing herself of the memory. _It's a good thing I work in a place with plenty of caffeine...I obviously need it, _she thought to herself as she turned the corner toward the center of town, picking up her pace as she went.

* * *

About an hour before her shift was over, Emily noticed two women enter The Brew that she didn't recognize. This wasn't entirely out of the ordinary - there were plenty of people in and around Rosewood that she didn't know - but these women stood out, and it was clear even in the way they carried themselves that they weren't from around here. They were dressed in business casual attire and were both, Emily noticed, strikingly beautiful. She was sure she would have noticed them before. She didn't realize she was staring until her supervisor called her name. "Emily, you have a customer," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice, as was his tendency.

"Right, sorry," she said hurriedly, but he was already waving a dismissive hand in the air as he disappeared into the back room. She looked up at the customer standing in line. "Sorry, how can I help you?"

She bustled around, making lattes and fetching muffins for customers, when suddenly one of the women she had noticed earlier was standing at the counter. The woman tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder and stepped forward. She once again was caught staring when the woman started to chuckle. Emily felt her cheeks grow hot and she started to stammer, "Hi, can I, uh, help me? I mean, you? Can I help you?" She laughed nervously. The woman placed her order for two coffees in a lilting British accent, and Emily took her time so her suddenly distracted ways didn't make her spill scalding coffee everywhere. After the woman paid for the drinks, Emily watched her bring them over to the curly-haired woman she came in with. They seemed to be talking about some papers spread out on the table before them, but Emily couldn't help but notice the way the British one would occasionally place her hand on the other woman's knee, or how the one in the blazer would stare intently at the other woman's face when she was speaking.

She wasn't sure why, but as she finished up her shift, she kept stealing glances at the two mysterious women. At one point, when she looked up from the table she was wiping down, she saw her view was blocked by pair of red pants. Her eyes trailed up past the billowy white shirt to see a familiar shock of blonde hair. "Hey, Hanna." Hanna didn't reply, but just smirked in response.

Then, to Emily's surprise, she felt a pair of lean arms lock around her middle. She gasped, and in doing so, took in an all-too-familiar scent, which immediately caused her to lean back into the body behind her before spinning towards who she knew would be her girlfriend. Sure enough, when she turned around, she was face-to-face with Paige, who was grinning ear to ear at the sight of her. She threw her arms around Paige's neck, but before she could give her a hello kiss, her manager rudely snapped her name again. Paige jumped back and put a good foot between herself and Emily, her face paling slightly. Emily rolled her eyes and called, "Coming!" as she headed behind the counter again, throwing Paige and Hanna apologetic looks as she did.

"We've talked about your fraternizing at work, Emily. More specifically, how it has to stop."

Emily pressed her lips together and swallowed her frustration at the boy who was the same age as her, but whose title caused him to go on regular power trips when the manager wasn't around. She gave him a small nod to acknowledge that she heard him.

When he didn't get a rise out of her, he continued, the bite in his voice gone, but his authoritative tone remaining. "Please restock the pastries for the afternoon shift, then you can go."

Emily nodded and flashed him a smile. She held up a hand to Hanna and Paige, insinuating she would be about five more minutes, and went out back to get fresh muffins and scones. When she came back and started loading the glass case, she looked up and saw Hanna and Paige sitting at a table, chatting and laughing, which made her heart swell. She remembered all the time she spent worrying her friends would have a hard time accepting Paige as her girlfriend, and she remembered how nervous Paige was about hanging out with them. Seeing Hanna and Paige, two of the most important people in her life, getting along made her feel like she could have some semblance of a normal life someday. She tried not to think of the things going on that were keeping her from that normal life. Paige still didn't know that she and her friends had seen Alison, and she wasn't sure how to break it to her. They hadn't heard from her since the night they got back from Ravenswood, and Emily was trying to take advantage of the relatively uneventful days in the meantime. She knew it couldn't last long. She put the last croissant on her tray into the case and slid the glass door closed. When she stood up again, her eyes drifted back to where the two women had been sitting, but they were gone.

Just as she finished putting the empty tray into the industrial sink in the back of the shop, a red-haired girl from the afternoon shift came behind the counter, tying on her forest green apron.

"Get out of here, Em, don't keep your lady waiting." She winked and Emily smiled shyly.

"Thanks, Amber, have a good shift."

Emily felt her smile grow with every step she took toward the table where Paige and Hanna sat. This time, she didn't hesitate, she leaned in and planted a big kiss on her girlfriend, who was surprised at first, but soon returned the kiss in kind.

"Alright you two, that's enough. My boyfriend is out of town, I don't need extra reminders."

Emily looked at her friend with sympathy in her eyes, keeping a hand on Paige's shoulder. "Sorry Han, I know you miss him."

"Don't look at me like that, I was teasing. Can we go?"

Emily tilted her head. "Go where?"

Paige looked up at Emily and put her hand over the one on her shoulder. "Hanna invited us to lunch with her, Spencer and maybe Aria."

"_Maybe _Aria?"

Hanna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, if she can pull herself off whichever boy she's sucking face with this week."

Paige and Emily both raised their eyebrows at Hanna's tone. Emily proceeded with caution. "Maybe you should plan a trip to Ravenswood soon, Han..."

"Sorry, I'm fine. And no way am I stepping foot in that creepy-ass town any time soon. I still haven't gotten all the chill out of my bones from our last visit yet."

Paige's jaw clenched slightly and Emily knew a change of subject would be best for everyone. She took a step back and pulled Paige to her feet. Hanna followed suit. "Where are we going?"

"The Grille, as if there's anywhere else to go in Rosewood," Hanna scoffed, pulling a grey scarf from out of her bag and wrapping it around her neck as she went. "I have my car here, so I'll just meet you guys there."

As the three girls started to walk out of the café, Hanna began making a case for a trip to the mall after lunch, when Emily stopped short, causing the other girls to stop, too.

"Hi girls, do you think we could speak to you for a moment?"

Standing in front of them were the two women Emily had been watching in the cafe, only this time Emily noticed the shiny gold badges pinned to their hips.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Myka saw Emily's eyes dart down to her and Helena's badges. She had seen Emily stealing glances at them while they sat in the coffee shop, but now all curiosity drained from her face and was replaced by a steely expression. Myka tried to sound as friendly as possible. "It's Emily, right? And..." Myka hesitated when she saw the brunette next to Emily; she recognized Paige from the Lyndon James case file.

"This is my friend Hanna and this is my girlfriend Paige," Emily said, taking a small step forward, putting herself between the agents and the girls.

Myka's eyes darted instinctively to Helena but quickly turned her smile back to the teenagers before her. "I'm Agent Bering and this is Agent Wells, we're with the secret service."

Hanna crossed her arms and jutted one hip out. "Not much of a secret if you go around telling random teenagers."

Helena started to sputter, but Myka treated it as she would a comment from Pete and continued. "We're here because some...unusual activity has come to our attention."

All three girls tensed up, Hanna shifting to stand up straight again. Emily was still taking lead, "What do you mean, unusual?"

Myka realized she wasn't really sure how to answer that question yet. "Well, we're not too clear on the details..."

Helena stepped forward so she was standing next to Myka. "We deal in the...inexplicable. The types of things you might not even believe if you hadn't experienced it yourself."

Paige's eyes dropped to her feet, but the other two girls didn't break their incredulous stares. Myka reached into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out three business cards. "If you think of anything, let us know. We'll be in town for a few days." The girls still didn't say anything, but they all took the cards and inspected them.

"Myka? What kind of name is that?"

"Hanna!" Emily sounded mildly horrified by her friend's frankness. "Sorry. She sometimes forgets that she's talking out loud." She threw a silencing look at Hanna.

Paige looked up from her card and spoke for the first time. "How did you know Emily's name?"

Emily's eyes widened slightly, as if she hasn't even thought to wonder that. All three girls looked at the agents expectantly.

"One thing that brought us here was the unusually high amount of police activity in the past year or so, especially compared to the years prior. Emily's name came up a lot, which we found strange since she was a star swimmer with good grades," Myka answered Paige, watching the girls' expressions carefully. She wanted to make sure they understood she didn't suspect them of anything.

Helena gestured towards Hanna and added, "And people don't often get picked up for petty shoplifting and murder in the same year."

The girls still looked wary, so Myka continued. "From where we stood, it looked like Rosewood PD could use a little...unsolicited help."

Helena subtly put a hand on Myka's elbow, signaling that she thought they should pull back. "So if you think of anything, just give us a ring."

"It was nice to meet you girls." Myka gave them a little wave before turning and heading toward their rental car, Helena close behind.

Once in the car, the two women watched the girls in their rear-view mirrors. They stood and exchanged a few words before Hanna got into her car, parked just outside the Brew, and Paige and Emily walked a little further down the street, hand in hand.

Myka looked at Helena, a hint of worry lining her brow. "Do you think they'll call us?"

"Give them time, they just might."

"I'm just not sure what else we can do until they tell us more about what's actually going on."

One of Helena's eyebrows shot up. "I have an idea of what we can do..."

"Helena G. Wells, you are _insatiable_." Myka didn't even try to hide her grin as she leaned in for a kiss. As she reached her arm up to touch Helena's face, her elbow hit the car horn, causing them both to start laughing. Myka saw a few people on the sidewalk staring at them as though they had lost their minds, so she wiped the tears of laughter from her face, started the car and pulled away from the curb.

* * *

As Myka pulled into the parking lot of the motel, her phone began to ring. She exchanged a glance with Helena and answered, "Hello?"

A nervous, hushed voice responded. "Uh...hi, Agent Bering? It's uh...Paige. From before. Emily's...girlfriend."

Myka tried not to get her hopes up. "Hi, Paige, it's nice to hear from you. And you can call me Myka."

"I saw...well, I think I saw...I might have seen something...unusual, like you said."

"Anything you could tell us would be helpful, even if you think it's nothing, it might help us."

"Can I meet you later to talk? I...I don't want Emily to know. I don't want to worry her..."

"I understand. You know this town better than I do, where would you like to meet?"

"My parents are going out tonight, so you can meet me at my house around 7." Myka heard someone call Paige's name in the background of the phone call. "I have to go," Paige said hurriedly, "I'll text you my address."

Myka didn't want to admit to the already-worried-sounding girl that she already had her address from the police records of her kidnapping, so she quickly agreed. "Sure, of course. We'll see you tonight. Thank you, Paige."

Paige hung up without saying goodbye. Myka let out a sigh of relief. "Paige said she had something to tell us. We're meeting her tonight." She was glad they finally had a lead, and didn't have to spend too much time wandering aimlessly in this mysterious town.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Is everything okay?" Emily asked Paige, who was just joining her girlfriend and her friends at their table at the Apple Rose Grille.

"Yeah, sorry, it was just my parents telling me they were going out tonight," Paige said softly. She didn't meet Emily's eyes; she hated lying to her. "Hi, Spencer." She gave the tall girl her best smile, still not able to read her, even after dating Emily for months.

"Hi, Paige," Spencer answered, her tone as unreadable as her face. Without missing a beat, Spencer turned back to Hanna, who had apparently been in the middle of telling her about their coffee shop encounter. "Start again, don't leave anything out." Now her tone was readable, and it was hungry for information.

"We got totally ambushed by secret agents! They knew Emily's name and probably way more that they weren't telling us."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Secret agents?" She looked to Emily for clarification.

"Secret Service agents. So they said."

"That doesn't make sense. There's no one in Rosewood worth Secret Service protection." Spencer's voice was sharp and accusatory. Paige was glad Spencer wasn't there when they had first met Agents Bering and Wells.

"They also said they dealt with...unusual cases."

"What does that mean?" Spencer asked pointedly.

"It means they probably know we've been stalked by an anonymous freak who either thinks they killed our best friend or wishes they did and somehow knows things that are impossible to know," Hanna said with exasperation. She surveyed the varying expressions of shock on her friends' faces. She shrugged. "What? I'm just saying. A lot of weird shit goes on in our lives, in case you haven't noticed. And they made it sound like maybe they'd actually believe us for once."

The girls considered this for a moment. Paige was fidgeting silently in her seat.

"What if A is behind this, somehow?" Spencer's question was soft and distant. Almost as though she were asking it out of obligation more than by choice.

"I don't know, they seemed legit." Hanna shrugged again and picked up a menu, even though they had been there enough times to have it memorized by now.

Emily gave Spencer a look that said she agreed. "They genuinely seemed curious, Spence."

Spencer nodded slowly. "Okay. We should meet them together tomorrow. I want to see what these...Secret Service agents are all about."

Spencer, Emily and Paige also busied themselves with menus when suddenly Aria appeared beside them, slightly out of breath. "Hey guys! What'd I miss?"

The four seated girls exchanged exhausted glances, but Spencer took the lead. "We'll tell you later. We were just about to order."

"Great!" The tiny brunette bounced into the open seat and picked up a menu just as the waitress approached the table.

* * *

After lunch, the girls said their goodbyes and parted ways. Emily climbed into Paige's car and asked, "What time did you say I should come over?"

"My parents won't leave until 8, so maybe come over at 8:30, just to be safe? You know they're still uncomfortable with the idea of us being alone in the house together." Paige rolled her eyes. "It's like they think we can get each other pregnant."

"It's kind of sweet, in a weird way." Emily's smile made Paige's heart do flips. She tried to concentrate on the road as she drove her girlfriend home, but she couldn't help but steal glances at the stunning brunette in her passenger seat. Especially when she declared her love for the song on the radio and turned it up, singing along and bopping her head to the beat all the way to her house.

When Paige pulled over in front of her house, Emily unbuckled, but turned to face Paige instead of getting out of the car. "Lunch was nice, wasn't it?" Emily's eyes were so hopeful they were almost pleading. Even if Paige had disagreed, she would have said it was nice. Luckily, she also felt like the meal with Emily's tight-knit, normally closed-off group of friends was actually fun. Once Aria arrived and regaled them with her brother's latest misadventures, even Spencer loosened up and they all started sharing fun, silly stories about relatives. For once, even though it was only for an hour or two, it actually almost seemed like they were normal teenagers.

"It was very nice," Paige assured her girlfriend.

Emily leaned over the center console for a kiss, but instead of her usual peck goodbye, she let her lips linger on Paige's for a moment. She pressed her forehead against Paige's and whispered, "I love you, you know that?"

Paige's breath caught in her throat and she reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Emily's ear. She pulled back a little so she could look Emily in the eye and answered, "I love you, too." The two girls kissed until they were out of breath, and even then they stayed close enough that they could feel the heat radiating off of one another's skin. Paige inhaled through her nose. "You smell like coffee," she exhaled happily.

Emily giggled and pulled back. "Burnt coffee, probably. I should go shower. I'll see you tonight."

Paige beamed as she watched Emily pull her duffle back from the backseat and somehow still exit the car gracefully. She waited until Emily used her keys to open the front door, paused, and turned back to wave before waving and driving away.

When she pulled into her driveway and turned the engine off, she sat in her car for a moment, letting the silence envelop her. She had a few hours before the Secret Service agents arrived. A few hours to decide whether or not she really believed that she saw Maya St. Germain.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

By the time Myka and Helena rang the doorbell of the McCullers house, Claudia had already given them the download on everything she could find about Paige beyond the police report about the kidnapping they already had. There wasn't much else on the girl - just a few newspaper stories in the Rosewood Observer about her swimming accomplishments. Compared to the other girls, she had stayed out of trouble, though being bound and gagged by a psychopath kept her on the list of people who might be helpful in finding the artifact that brought them here. Also, as Emily's girlfriend, Paige might know more than police or teachers, and she might be willing to give the information up to help keep Emily safe.

Myka and Helena heard a crash from inside the house and instinctively put their hands on the Tesla guns strapped to their belts, hidden from plain sight by their blazer and vest, respectively. Before they could even consider pulling them completely out of their holsters, they heard the door unlock. The door swung open and a flustered Paige greeted them. "Hi, come in, sorry," she said, opening the door wide before doubling back and picking up two picture frames she had apparently knocked off a small table in the front hallway.

"Hi, Paige. Thanks for calling us," Myka said, wondering if Paige was always like this or if it was the pressure of having strange adults in her house amidst so much strangeness in her life.

"Thanks for coming." Paige smiled nervously at the agents and gestured into a room off the hallway, closing and locking the door behind them. She followed them into the room and sat in the powder blue armchair across from the matching sofa, where Myka and Helena had already settled in.

Almost as soon as she sat down, she shot back up again, looking somewhat frenzied. "Oh! Sorry! Can I get you anything? Water?"

"No, thank you sweetie, we're okay." Helena's voice seemed to have a bit of a calming effect on the girl, and she sat back down much slower than she had popped up. She was, however, still wringing her hands in her lap.

"Are your parents home?" Myka felt a little uneasy about meeting with a teenager without her parents knowing, but she also knew it was important for Paige to feel comfortable if she was going to share things other authorities in her life might not believe.

"No, they went out to dinner. I didn't want them to think anything was wrong, they've been a little high strung ever since...since last year."

Myka and Helena both nodded. "That's understandable," Helena said.

"And you know you're not in trouble, right? We're not here to point fingers, we're just looking for some answers," Myka assured her.

It was Paige's turn to nod. "I feel a little silly, because it totally might be nothing...it just seemed weird that you guys showed up a few days after it happened...though it could totally be a coincidence..."

"In our line of work, hardly anything is ever a coincidence." Helena's comment made Paige look at her curiously, but it also seemed to cause her to sit up a little straighter. She took in a breath and started talking.

"The other night, I was riding my bike to Emily's house and I thought I saw someone...but it's impossible..." Paige looked as though she hardly believed her own story, even though she was the one telling it. Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head, her eyes trained on her hands.

"It's okay, Paige. What did you see?" Myka's voice was soft and reassuring.

"I swear I saw Emily's ex-girlfriend, Maya St. Germain..." Paige looked up, her eyes darting between the two agents who sat across from her. "But Maya died last year."

Myka and Helena exchanged glances and looked back at Paige. "You're sure," Helena said more than asked, not wanting to sound like she didn't believe Paige's story.

Paige nodded, but tears filled her eyes.

"Did she say anything to you?"

"No, I just saw her in the distance for a moment, but it took me by surprise and I fell off my bike." Paige's hand absentmindedly wandered to her bruised elbow. "By the time I looked up, there was no one on the street." Her voice lowered to almost a whisper, "Am I losing my mind?"

"No, sweetie. I think someone is just trying to upset you and your friends."

For a second, Paige looked almost relieved. But then a look of alarm took over her face. "You think...you think it's a joke? But how..."

"That's what we're here to find out." Myka stood up and walked over to Paige's chair, squatting in front of it and looked up at Paige.

"Thank you for telling us, Paige. This will help us a lot. And whoever it is, we're going to find them."

"And we're going to stop them," Helena added, standing up as well. She started to head towards the front door and Myka got up and followed. Paige stood up and followed them to the hallway, looking a little shell shocked.

Myka put her hand on Paige's shoulder, "Are you going to be okay here on your own?"

Paige nodded slowly. "Emily's coming over soon, we'll be okay."

"You have my number if anything happens."

Myka followed Helena outside and down the porch steps. "Bye, Paige," she called over her shoulder.

"Agent Bering?" Myka stopped and turned around. "Thank you...for, you know...believing me."

"Of course." Myka gave Paige a smile and a wave and headed down the walkway.

* * *

"Well would you look who it is." Pete's face was accusatory, and way too close to the Farnsworth. "How's your romantic getaway?" With that question, his voice had all the mocking quality of a schoolboy at recess.

"Pete, give Claudia back her Farnsworth."

"Please, you are my only window to the outside world! Have pity on your dear old friend who will be doing inventory for all eternity!"

Helena let out a little laugh. Myka shot her a look. "Don't encourage him," she said under her breath.

"I heard that!"

"Pete! Claudia. Now."

Pete let out a dramatic sigh. "CLAAUUUUD!"

Immediately, Claudia wheeled into view behind Pete. "Whoa, dude, less decibels, please. I'm right here and I'm not as old as Artie just yet." She snatched the Farnsworth out of Pete's hand and flashed Myka a smile. "What can I do ya for?"

"We just talked to one of the girls here in Rosewood - Paige."

"McCullers! Awesome name, by the way."

"She told us that she saw her girlfriend's ex, Maya St. Germain the other night..."

"Da-RAM-a!" Claudia propped up the Farnsworth and started typing before Myka could finish her sentence.

"Claudia, Maya is..."

Claudia's typing stopped short. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"What? Maya's what? What's Maya?" Pete reappeared on the screen, scooting up close to Claudia to read her computer over her shoulder.

"Whoa. When did this chick say she saw her?"

"Two days ago."

"Freaky."

"We'll try to find out more tomorrow, but for now, if you guys can find any artifacts that could make people think they've seen a ghost."

"Or create the illusion of one," Helena chimed in.

"I'm on it, my unnaturally beautiful friends! Until tomorrow!" Claudia spun her chair in a circle with her arms flared out and switched off the Farnsworth.

"Where does she get all that energy?" Helena asked, smirking.

Myka was still looking at the Farnsworth, looking a little concerned. "I feel like we left the kids home alone. Near weapons."

"Oh, I'm not worried about them."

"Maybe you should be...at least Artie will be able to reign them in...I hope." She put the Farnsworth in the center console and started the car. Before she shifted the car out of park, she looked over at Helena, who was smiling at her.

"What are you smiling about?"

"I missed this, when I was gone. I took it for granted and I thought I had blown my chance at ever having an experience like it ever again. I know I've been back for a few weeks now, but it's after conversations like that, seeing Pete's silly face, hearing Claudia's laugh, watching you try to grasp their attention for more than two seconds at a time. I missed it. I missed you. All of you."

"We missed you, too, Helena."

Helena exhaled and slapped her hands to her knees. "Let's get going, shall we?"

Myka smiled, nodded and put the car in drive.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Emily was up with the sun again on Sunday morning. She didn't have to work until later that afternoon, but she wanted to get a run in before she started her day. She stood on her front porch and let the cool morning breeze play with her long, wavy ponytail while she selected her running playlist on her iPod and tucked it into her armband. She did some quick stretches, then headed off down the street. As she ran, she let her mind fill with images of the night before. Getting two nights in one week alone with Paige was so rare that she couldn't actually remember the last time it happened. To be able to shut off their phones and curl up with a cheesy chick flick while eating greasy pizza and homemade popcorn was better than Emily could have hoped. She had even dozed off towards the end of the movie from being in such a contented, blissed out state and awoke with a start to the short, sharp beeps of a car being locked. Her and Paige quickly untangled from one another and Paige ushered her out the back door, both girls giggling and shushing each other while they tried to get Emily out without Mr. and Mrs. McCullers finding out they were there unsupervised. For once, they felt like _teenagers._

Emily felt lighter with these memories and picked up her pace. She jogged along mostly deserted streets until she got to the center of town, where a few people were milling about, undoubtedly on their way to church. Emily started her usual loop around the rotary when she thought she saw someone in the gazebo in the center of the circle. She slowed down when she saw who it was. She saw the eerily familiar shape of Lyndon James standing there, staring at her with a wicked grin on his face. She slowed to a stop in front of the church and closed her eyes for a second, but when she opened them, he was still there, still smiling. Even though her mind was telling her to keep running, she suddenly found her feet leading her across the street toward the gazebo. Suddenly she felt a hand grab her hand and pull her back.

"Look out!" Emily stumbled back onto the sidewalk just as a van whizzed past. Emily watched it drive off, a dumbfounded expression on her face.

She turned and stammered out a 'thank you' to the woman who pulled her back at the last minute.

"You kids and your music, too distracted to see where you're going," the woman scolded. But Emily wasn't paying attention, she was looking at the gazebo where she had just seen Lyndon. He was gone. She turned back to ask the woman if she had seen him, but she was already all but dragging a boy of about ten up the church steps.

Emily looked down and noticed her hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists and took off running as fast as she could back in the direction of her house. When she got there, her mother was making coffee in the kitchen. She started to say something to Emily, but Emily interrupted, shouting, "Shower!" before sprinting up the stairs. She bolted into her room and started frantically going through all the papers on her desk, knocking pencils and post-its onto the floor in the process. "Where is it?" She muttered to herself as she looked around her room. Her eyes fell on her hamper in the corner of her room and she darted over to it, pulling out the clothes she wore to work the day before. She emptied every pocket and shook out every article of clothing, throwing each to the floor with a small, frustrated grunt. She even went beyond the barista uniform to empty the entire hamper, flipping it over to make sure nothing was left inside. Next, she pounced on the duffle bag she had brought to Hanna's the night before and emptied it on her bed, giving each of those clothing items the same shake-down treatment. Once her room looked like a tornado had flown through it, she stood for a moment, looking over the damage, her chest heaving with adrenaline. Suddenly, she stripped off her running clothes and sneakers, threw on a tank top, a baggy, off-the-shoulder sweatshirt, and faded jeans. She took her cell phone out of the bag that was hanging on the back of her desk chair and shoved it in her back pocket, pulled on her Converse and bounded down the stairs. She almost sprinted right out the door, but thought better of it and doubled back to the kitchen. "Mom, I just remembered I have to do an English project with Hanna for tomorrow, I'm going to go over there for a few hours, I have my phone if you need me, love you, bye." She didn't wait for her mother's reaction before grabbing her keys off the counter, kissing her on the cheek, and heading out the front door.

Emily drove as fast as she safely could to the Marin house and let herself in with her key. She unceremoniously burst into Hanna's room, causing her sleeping friend to sit upright and scream, "What do you want?!"

"Hanna, sorry, it's me, it's Emily."

"Are you trying to kill me?! You can't just burst into someone's room like that while they're sleeping!" Hanna's eyes were wide and her breath was rapid and shallow.

"I know, I'm sorry, but Hanna, this is important. Do you still have the card the Secret Service agents gave us yesterday? I can't find mine."

Hanna sleepily gestured toward her purse on the floor next to her bed. "Shoved it in there. Why do you need it?"

"They told us to tell them if we saw anything unusual - anything at all. And this morning, I saw something unusual alright. More like impossible."

"What? When? What did you see? Where?"

"When I was out for my run-"

"Wait, you've already been up long enough to go for a run? What time is it?"

"Hanna! Focus! I saw Lyndon James this morning!" Emily could tell from her slightly pained expression that Hanna was wracking her brain trying to place the name. "Maya's 'cousin' Nate." She used air-quotes for the term he used to trick her.

Realization dawned on Hanna's face and her eyes grew wide. She sat up and crossed her legs, leaning towards Emily. "But he's-"

"I know. And this isn't the first time I saw him. I saw him a few houses down when I left here for work yesterday. I thought I was losing my mind."

Emily started digging through Hanna's purse until she found the business card with "Agent Myka Bering" printed on it. When she turned around, Hanna had her elbows resting on her knees and her head resting in her hands, her blonde hair still sticking up in places from sleep.

"Hanna, what is it?"

"I thought I saw Wilden the other night when you asked me to close the window."

"You what? Why didn't you tell me?!"

Hanna crossed her arms. "You didn't tell me when you thought you saw Nate! Probably for the same reason I didn't say anything! I don't know about you, but I don't plan on following in Spencer's footsteps all the way to a private room in Radley."

Emily walked over and sat on the edge of Hanna's bed. "We have to call Agent Bering. I have a feeling she'll believe us. She said that she and Agent Wells deal with unexplainable things, right?"

"True. And I don't know about you, but I don't even know where to _begin _explaining this."

Emily pulled out her phone and started dialing the number on the card. She paused partway through and looked up at Hanna. "Should we tell Spencer first?"

"No," Hanna answered immediately. "If we tell Spencer, she won't let us tell anyone. She'll want us to tackle the next dead person we see and interrogate them ourselves. And I don't know if it's ghosts or zombies or just someone slipping crazy pills into our morning coffee, but I don't want to deal with this on our own if we don't have to."

"You're right...she did seem willing to meet them, but if she knows what we saw, she'll probably think it's the agents' FAULT we're seeing dead people."

This made Hanna's eyebrows knit together. "You don't think they have anything to do with it, do you?"

"Hanna, we can't assume everyone we meet is out to get us."

"Aren't they, though?"

Emily's eyes looked desperate, sad. Almost defeated. "They can't all be."

Hanna thought for a minute, then nodded resolutely. "Call them."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Myka was enjoying the feeling of Helena's arm draped over her body, listening to her soft breathing, feeling her chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of sleep. Helena started to stir, and Myka held her breath, not wanting to move, not ready for this peaceful moment to end. Helena adjusted herself to be closer to Myka, unconsciously squeezing her tighter. Myka ghosted her fingers over Helena's exposed shoulder, then closed her eyes and listened to their heartbeats fall into sync. She almost drifted back to sleep when Helena stirred again, this time rolling away from Myka and onto her back, greeting the morning with a stretch and a yawn. Myka turned toward her and watched as Helena peeked at the clock on the bedside table, groaned, and draped an arm over her eyes. Myka smirked. "Good morning, sunshine."

"I used to be quite the morning person, you know."

"Is that so?"

"But a bed with you in it is impossible to leave."

Myka beamed and leaned in to repay the compliment with a kiss. Helena laced her hands into Myka's curls and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Myka pulled back, a playful expression on her face. "Then maybe I should get out of it."

She planted a peck on Helena's nose and bounced out of bed. She gathered up some clothes out of her suitcase on the other bed in the room and dashed into the bathroom to change. When she came out, she walked around the bed where Helena was still fighting a losing battle with the sun that was brightening the room despite the thin curtain that covered the window. She sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair out of Helena's face. "I'll go get us some coffee, but you better be out of bed by the time I get back or I'm drinking yours."

Helena faked a pout and got a kiss on the forehead in return. Myka left the motel room, pausing at the door to look back at the woman lying in her bed, because she sometimes still couldn't believe Helena was hers.

Practically as soon as she heard Myka lock the door, H.G. heard a ringing sound that snapped her out of her foggy, post-sleep state. She leaned across the bed towards the sound and saw that it was Myka's cell phone on the nightstand that was ringing. She didn't usually answer Myka's phone for her, even when she wasn't in the room, but H.G. was afraid it might be one of the Rosewood girls calling, and she didn't want them to lose their nerve by getting a voicemail.

"Hello?"

"Hi...Agent...Bering?" The voice on the other end sounded unsure.

"This is Agent Wells, Agent Bering stepped out for a moment."

"Oh, hi, this is Emily. Emily Fields. We met yesterday."

"Yes, dear, I remember. How can I help you?" H.G. tried to keep her voice friendly and light, afraid of scaring her off.

"I was...well, we were, me and my friend Hanna, who you met, we were wondering if maybe we could meet up with you and Agent Bering today...we both saw something...well, something impossible."

"Yes, we'd love to meet up with you to chat. You pick the time and place, and we'll be there."

"Well actually, that's the other thing. Our friend Spencer wants us all - me, Hanna, her, and Aria - to meet with you and Agent Bering together, but Hanna and I don't want Spencer to know what we saw just yet. Do you think, if it's not too weird, you could just meet us before then? Spencer will probably call you soon and then she'll tell us where and when to meet up, and we'll just show up an hour earlier? That way we can pretend we just got there before her and it doesn't seem like we're sneaking around behind her back."

H.G. was curious as to why they were keeping something from their friend, but kept it to herself. She'd see what Myka made of it before approaching it with the girls. "Sounds perfect, we'll see you ladies then." She heard Emily exhale with what sounded like relief.

"Thank you, Agent Wells."

"Certainly."

After they exchanged their goodbyes and H.G. hung up, she started to get dressed. It looked like they would be in for a busy day.

* * *

Myka thanked the cashier and walked out of the coffee shop with two cups in her hand. She placed the coffees on top of her car to dig out her keys. When she got them out, she looked up and immediately dropped her keys. Standing a few cars down in the parking lot, looking at her from over the row of hoods, was her ex-partner Sam. Her dead ex-partner.

She quickly bent down to scoop up her keys and started walking to where she saw him, but now the man was nowhere to be seen. She ran the length of the parking lot, frantically looking into cars along the way, but didn't see him anywhere. Defeated, she walked back to the car, took the coffees off the roof, and got in. She immediately pulled out her Farnsworth and called Artie.

As soon as she saw his face on her screen, before he could even utter a greeting, she was off, "Artie, I just saw Sam."

"Sam? As in-"

"Yes, that Sam. Artie, we need to figure out what this artifact is, and fast."

"We're looking. Claudia even has Pete and Steve doing internet research."

"It's just, if Paige saw her girlfriend's ex, and I saw Sam... what if this artifact makes you see the last person you would want to see? The person who would cause the most emotional damage?"

"You know it wasn't Sam, Myka, right?"

"It's not me I'm worried about. Or Paige, for that matter. But Artie, if Helena sees Christina..."

A grim expression overtook Artie's face. "You're right. Well, knowing that you saw someone deceased from your past as well should help Claudia in her research. Did it look like a hologram?"

"No, it looked very corporeal. And I felt very lucid the whole time, so I'm pretty sure I wasn't hallucinating."

"And did you smell-"

"No, I didn't smell fudge."

"Okay, I'll let Claudia know and get back to you."

"Thanks, Artie."

"And Myka?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

Myka smiled warmly. "I will."

Myka's smile faded after she hung up the Farnsworth. She spent the ride home contemplating whether telling Helena that she saw Sam was a good idea or not. Should she prepare her for the possibility that she might see the daughter she lost? Or should she not cause unnecessary worry? By the time she pulled into the motel parking lot, she had a long list of pros and cons for each option, but still wasn't sure what to do. She sat, gathering the courage to go in and face Helena, when the sound of the passenger door opening made her jump. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Helena, who leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss before closing the door behind her.

"A lot's happened in your absence, Agent Bering."

Myka couldn't help but smile, despite the conflict raging in her head. "Is that so, Agent Wells?"

"Young Emily and Hanna have something to share with us, but don't want Spencer to know they're meeting us."

"Interesting." Myka wondered why that would be; on paper, the girls seemed closer than sisters.

"Spencer called and asked us to meet them at the park at noon, which means Emily and Hanna would like to meet there at eleven. Then when Spencer and Aria arrive, they will pretend they were simply a few minutes early."

"Hm. Alright then. Let's find this park."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Emily and Hanna were sitting at a picnic table in the park, Hanna tapping idly on her phone, flipping through pictures, Emily bouncing her knee and twisting her hands while looking around frantically.

"Em, you need to calm down. You're making me seasick."

Emily glared at Hanna. "I don't know how you're so calm right now. Spencer is going to kill us."

"Spencer's not going to know until we want her to."

"We are talking about the same Spencer, right?"

"Listen, even if she does find out, she'll understand."

"Understand why we went behind her back to talk to authorities we just met yesterday?"

"Okay, well, when you put it that way..."

"Exactly. Besides, who knows if we can even really trust them. If they're secretly ex-cohorts of Wilden's or something, Spencer will never let us live it down."

Hanna shivered dramatically. "Can you not say his name?"

"Sorry. All I'm saying is I'm having second thoughts. Maybe we should have just told Spencer and have her tell the agents."

"Well it's too late now, because here they come."

The girls looked up to see the agents approaching them. They smiled at the girls and settled into the bench across the picnic table from them.

"Good morning, girls."

"Good morning, Agent Bering, Agent Wells."

"Please, call us Myka and H.G." H.G.'s voice had the same soothing effect that it did the first time Emily met her.

Somehow the permission to not refer to them as agents anymore made Emily feel a little more relaxed. "Thanks for coming early."

"If you don't mind my asking, why did you want to meet now if your friends are meeting up with us later?"

Emily hesitated, unsure how much to tell Myka. Hanna jumped in instead. "Spencer never would have let us tell you what we saw. She has a hard time trusting people."

Emily rushed to finish, "For good reason - it's been a crazy few years."

Myka and H.G. nodded understandingly. "So what is it you wanted to tell us? What did you see?"

This time both girls hesitated, knowing how crazy their stories were going to sound coming out of their mouths. Emily reminded herself that they did say they were used to the unusual, so she steeled her nerve and spoke first.

"I thought I was losing my mind the first time...I thought it was just PTSD flashbacks, you know? I had seen him before, though usually just in my nightmares. But then when I saw him again this morning, I knew it was more than that. It wasn't my eyes playing tricks on me...it was something else..." Emily's sentences all came out in one breath, her eyes growing wider with every word.

"Who, dear? Who did you see?" H.G. prodded.

"The guy who kidnapped my girlfriend," she said, her jaw tensing. "The guy I-he's dead now. There's no way who I saw was really him...but it looked just like him. And he was staring at me." Emily's eyes darted from Myka's face to H.G.'s and was a little surprised to see how _not _surprised they were. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Not yet," Myka said, emphasizing the word 'yet'. "But we're working on figuring it out. It's not just you who has seen someone that they shouldn't have - couldn't have - been able to see."

"You're telling me," Hanna scoffed.

"You saw someone, too?" Myka asked.

Hanna shrugged. "Yeah, at least I think I did. Outside my window, Officer Wilden." She shuddered at the name again. "He used to...give me and my mom a lot of trouble." She looked at Emily. "All of us, really. He was kind of a creep."

Myka took out a little notepad and started scribbling.

Emily still wasn't sure what to make of how calm Myka and H.G. were at this news that seemed insane. While things that were hard to believe and explain weren't exactly uncommon in their lives since Alison disappeared, they had never had an outsider react to anything they said happened to them with any kind of open mind.

H.G. and Myka asked the girls a few more questions about exactly where and when these sightings occurred, and what the figures were doing when they saw them, Myka taking notes all the while. When they were done, Myka tucked her notebook into her pocket and asked, "Now, when Spencer and Aria get here, are you sure you don't want to tell them what you saw? What you told us?"

"No, we can't," Emily rushed. "Spencer will be upset we trusted you without consulting her first."

"And if there's anything I've learned in the past two years, it's don't make Spencer Hastings angry," Hanna added.

The agents agreed to keep their secrets, causing both girls to sigh with relief. Emily looked at the time on her phone to see that Spencer would be there any minute. She had a feeling the agents sitting across from her had never had to deal with a teenager who would question their authority as boldly as Spencer was sure to.

* * *

When Spencer and Aria entered the clearing where they were meeting Agents Bering and Wells, Emily and Hanna were already sitting with them. Spencer found this a little suspicious, since not only was she usually the first one to arrive places (when Aria wasn't holding her back), but Hanna Marin was rarely, if ever, early. She tucked the information in the back of her mind, but chalked it up to Emily being more punctual and probably urging Hanna along.

The woman with the curly hair noticed the two girls arrive first and smiled at them. "Hi, you must be Spencer and Aria! I'm Agent Bering, and this is Agent Wells, but you can call us Myka and H.G." She gestured toward the woman sitting next to her on the bench.

"H.G. Wells?" Spencer asked, one eyebrow cocked, looking at her incredulously.

Aria looked curious, too. "Like the author?"

"My parents had a sense of humor," H.G. joked.

Spencer's face remained expressionless. "Yes, I'm Spencer. This is Aria." They exchanged handshakes, and Aria offered the women the smile that Spencer didn't. Emily and Hanna scooted over so all four girls could sit on one side of the table, facing the agents.

Spencer wasn't about to make this easy for them, not until they proved they could be trusted. They could be on the A team or some of Garrett's old coworkers for all she knew. No, she knew better than to blindly trust people just because they had a badge pinned to their hip. In fact, maybe that was all the more reason to be hesitant.

"So, Emily and Hanna tell me you're from the secret service."

"Yes, a special branch that deals with more unusual cases."

"How unusual?"

H.G. smirked. "More unusual than local police departments are usually equipped to handle."

"And how does that have anything to do with the president?"

Hanna looked confused. "What does the president have to do with anything ever?"

Spencer looked startled by the interruption, she had been zoned in on her interrogation. "That's what the secret service is, Hanna. They protect the president."

Hanna looked a little affronted at the tone Spencer took with her.

Myka took this question. "Well, usually in the strange cases we deal with, one person or thing is causing strange and potentially dangerous things to happen. Our job is to find and stop these strange things from happening, before it becomes an issue of national security."

"For example?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I want an example of something you stopped from becoming a bigger problem. What kinds of things are we talking about? Weapons?"

Myka seemed a little taken aback. "Not exactly, it's rarely as simple as that. We..." Myka paused, her face seeming to search for the best way to answer the question.

Aria leaned in and whispered, "Don't you think you're being a little harsh, Spence? They said they want to help."

Spencer threw a silencing glare at Aria, who then pulled back and kept her mouth shut.

H.G. suddenly straightened, looked Spencer dead in the eye, and gave her the answers she was looking for. "The _things _we're talking about are called artifacts. They're objects that often manifest energy from an event or extreme emotion. That object becomes its own entity, infused with power and with the ability to do unnatural things."

Myka looked surprised that H.G. had been so frank, but followed suit. "For _example_," she said significantly, "Once H.G. was almost frozen to death by a piece of driftwood from the Titanic."

The truth hung in the air between them for a moment. Aria, Hanna and Emily tensed up as they looked to Spencer to see what her next move would be.

"So, what you're saying is, if one of us were to say we saw something impossible...like someone who is long dead...that could have been caused by an artifact?"

Hanna and Emily's bodies seemed to physically relax next to her. Spencer looked over at them, "You guys, too?"

Emily's words poured out of her. "I saw Lyndon James twice and I really wanted to tell you but I thought Myka and H.G. could help us and I knew you wouldn't want us to tell them or I thought so at least I'm sorry we went behind your back and told them before we told you."

Spencer realized this was why Emily and Hanna were there early. "It's fine, I understand. You're right, I wouldn't have let you tell them, not before I talked to them." She turned to Hanna, "You, too?"

"I saw Wilden the other night."

Spencer took in the information and nodded. She turned forward again and told the agents, "I saw Ian when I was in my car waiting for Aria."

Everyone at the table turned to Aria, whose doe eyes were bigger than ever. She slowly shook her head back and forth, her mouth slightly open. "I... I haven't seen anything."

Hanna crossed her arms. "Lucky you."

After Spencer told the agents about her Ian sighting, she asked, "What now?"

H.G. answered, "Now we tell our colleagues what you told us, and see if they can't figure out what kind of artifact would cause you to have such visions."

Spencer stiffened. "Colleagues? What colleagues? How many people?"

"Only four colleagues," Myka assured her. "They do the same thing we do, I've worked with all of them for years. You can trust them, Spencer. You can trust us." Myka was looking at Spencer, the compassion in her eyes genuine.

Spencer still had questions. "And if and when you do find this...artifact? What then?"

"We neutralize it." Myka said. "Strip it of its powers and put it away where it can't hurt anyone anymore."

Spencer still wasn't sure how to feel about these agents. On the one hand, they were the first people outside their tight-knit circle, specifically the first adults, who believed their story without any hesitation or judgement. The agents' story seemed legitimate; they did seem to have experience in the strange and unexplainable. But on the other hand, it seemed pretty convenient that they showed up around the same time as the strange things started to happen - well, stranger things than usual - and she couldn't help but wonder if they were part of the problem, not the solution. Still, she wasn't sure what other option they had, and she surely didn't want to see Ian, or anyone else who had died for that matter, ever again. It was hard enough thinking Alison was dead all those months, never sure if she was hallucinating when she had visions of her, and then having her reappear in the flesh, clear as day.

"Alison." The rest of the people at the table had been chatting about Rosewood. The conversation fell to a stop when Spencer's voice interrupted.

"What about Alison?" Emily asked.

"If whatever this thing is can make you see dead people, or take the form of dead people, or whatever, maybe it wasn't really Alison at all we saw."

"But she talked to us, Spence."

"That doesn't mean anything, Hanna. Were any of you close enough to your ghosts to see how real they looked? For them to speak?"

Emily and Hanna shook their heads somberly.

Spencer's mind was whirring. "If Alison wasn't real, if it's all because of this artifact, what about all the other times we've seen her? Were those because of this artifact too? If so, why is it all of a sudden taking on more forms than just Ali?"

H.G. reached across the table and put her hand over Spencer's. "Sweetie, this is what we're here to find out. Why don't you tell us all about Alison and we'll get to the bottom of it all."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Myka's head hurt by the time she got through telling Artie, Claudia, and Pete about everything she and Helena had learned from the girls.

"It seems that the person each of the girls saw was specifically linked to their own experiences - as if they were chosen to be the most impactful, or as if they conjured them up themselves. And the artifact can't be too directly linked to Rosewood, or I wouldn't have been affected and wouldn't have seen Sam."

Myka winced after the words came out. She felt Helena's weight shift as she sat up on the bed Myka was sitting on, but didn't turn around; she just kept talking. "If Emily had seen Wilden or if Spencer had seen Maya, it wouldn't have shaken the girls up as much as it did, they all saw the person they saw for a reason."

Helena moved to sit beside Myka so she could add something while looking into the Farnsworth. "And the text that Spencer received after seeing Ian implies that there is someone controlling the artifact, though it's doubtful they know how powerful or how dangerous it is."

"Personalized dead people, got it," Claudia shouted from somewhere off screen. Myka gave Artie a faint smile.

"Good work, you two," Artie said. "We'll call you back as soon as we find something. Try to get some sleep."

"Bye, Mykes," Pete added.

Myka watched the screen go black and stared at it a moment longer, not ready to face Helena. She was expecting a lecture, or at least a little indignation, but instead felt a hand interlace with her own. "Why didn't you tell me?" Helena asked in a whisper.

Myka kept her head down. "I didn't..." her voice trailed off. She didn't even know where to begin. She didn't want to concern Helena, she didn't want to talk about Sam when she was sitting in a room with the woman she loved, she didn't want Helena to worry about seeing Christina...the list went on.

Myka felt Helena's hand lift her chin and gently turn her face towards her. "It's okay," Helena whispered, "I understand." She kissed Myka, softly, slowly. Myka wrapped her arms around her, holding on to the here and now as the past threatened to invade.

* * *

After Pete clicked off the Farnsworth, Claudia sank back into her desk chair.

"What a trip," she said.

Pete turned to Artie. "Why didn't you tell me Myka saw Sam?"

"It wasn't my place to tell you. Besides, it wasn't Sam."

Claudia perked up. "Are you sure? I've been reading a lot lately about the impending zombie apocal-"

"You finish that sentence and I'm never letting you inside this Warehouse again."

"This Warehouse likes me more than you anyway," Claudia retorted, sticking out her tongue.

Artie ignored her and started thinking aloud. "If there's a person controlling the artifact, and they were using it to target the teenagers of Rosewood, why go after Myka? And how? Does the person looking at it determine the shape of the figure, or does the person with the artifact?"

"Well if it was the person with the artifact, how would they know about Sam?" Pete asked.

Claudia spun around and made a few swift keystrokes. "Just as I suspected. A quick Google search of 'Agent Myka Bering' yields a dozen results from news articles printed about the case. He's listed as her partner, and she's quoted in half of them."

"What happens if you do the Google to H.G.?" Artie asked.

Claudia laughed. "You're so old it's cute." She did a little more typing and turned back around. "As I thought, it's all about the writer dude they taught us about in school. Helena G. Wells doesn't exist."

"Well that's good news! Mykes will be happy; no one can mess with H.G.!"

"We can't be sure. It's still possible the artifact can take the form of someone meaningful from its target's past, so we still need to find out what it is so Myka and H.G. can find it and stop it." Artie paused, then added, "Who knows what kind of havoc someone could wreak in a town with that kind of power."

"Yeah, we can't have people spooking the locals with faces of their dead loved ones," Claudia added.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing, gramps, I'm just joshing. Turn up your hearing aid."

Artie tutted at her insult and started muttering to himself. "Dead...faces..." He puttered around the room a bit as if he was looking for something.

Pete and Claudia exchanged a look. Claudia asked in a stage whisper, "Is he having a stroke?" Pete just shrugged in response.

Artie walked over to a bookshelf in the corner and danced his fingers over the covers, still stammering and muttering under his breath. "Ah, HA!"

Artie pulled a large book out, wiped dust off the cover, and splayed it open on the round table by the bookshelf. He started flipping through the pages of the book. "If memory serves...yes, yes, yes."

"English, any minute now, would be great." Claudia slowly approached the table to see what Artie was looking at. She had seen this process many times before and thought it best not to spook him.

"_L'Inconnue de la Seine!" _Artie exclaimed.

"Uh, that's not English," Pete said as he joined Artie and Claudia at the table.

Artie looked up and seemed almost surprised to see Claudia and Pete standing there, as if he had forgotten they were in the room at all. "Oh, right, yes - it means The Unknown Woman of the Seine. It's a story - a legend, almost - about a young woman who was found drowned, possibly by suicide, in a river in Paris in the 1880s."

"Morbid," Claudia said, sounding intrigued.

"As the story goes, the morgue attendant thought she was so beautiful, he had a death mask made of her face."

Pete looked horrified. "I'm afraid to ask, but what's a death mask?"

"It's an old practice of creating a cast of a deceased person's face, usually for portraits, body identification, and sometimes for mementos."

"Sweet. Pete, make a death mask of me when I die, will ya?" Claudia taunted.

"Gross."

"The mystery surrounding this girl's death and beauty, and thereby the exquisite structure of the death mask, entranced people so that copies of it were made and worn as a fashion piece in Bohemian societies."

"So, who was this chick?" Claudia ran her finger along the picture of the girl's face in the book. Her voice took on a more serious tone. "She looks so young."

"They estimated that she was about sixteen, but no one knows who she really was. No one stepped forward to claim her."

Claudia smiled sadly, "She almost looks like she's smiling."

Artie slammed the book shut, causing dust to fly up and sending Claudia and Pete into coughing fits. Artie paid them no mind and marched over to the Farnsworth. "Time to tell Myka and H.G. exactly what they're looking for."

"You're sure this is the artifact?" Pete asked.

"When _L'Inconnue_'s death mask was created, so moved was the morgue attendant that he imbued the mask with some of his desire to possess the face of the dead woman. With each copy made, the mask grew more powerful. It was housed in Warehouse 12, but it was one of the artifacts lost in the move to Warehouse 13."

"You didn't answer my question. Are you sure?"

"I sure hope so...Claudia, you see what you can find about the mask since 1914. Any sightings, references, clues. And anything that might link it back to Rosewood, Pennsylvania."

"Yes, sir." Claudia saluted, hopped into her desk chair, and started typing away. "One death mask, coming right up."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Emily and Hanna didn't exchange a single word on the drive from the park to Hanna's house. Even then, they only said quick goodbyes before Emily headed home. Emily barely remembered the drive, she was so lost in her own thoughts. She was still having a hard time wrapping her head around everything that happened today. Everything she saw, everything the agents said. When she got home and up to her room, she found a note pinned to her door.

"Dad and I will be out for dinner, there's some chili in the fridge. Love you, Mom"

Emily went into her room and plopped herself down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know what to do, and she certainly wasn't hungry. The girls had sat at the picnic table long after the agents left, going over each detail, trying to figure out who was doing this and why.

Spencer, of course, immediately suspected Mona, but Hanna swore she wasn't up to her old tricks. Spencer refused to take her off the suspect list, but she did move her down to the bottom. Physically moved her, as she was creating an actual list in the notepad app on her phone as they talked. Also on the list were Jenna, Shana, and Cece. Spencer typed an extra name, not realizing everyone was watching her every move, and Emily got angrier than she had ever been at Spencer when she saw Paige's name below Mona's.

"After everything she's done, you still don't trust her? Spencer, she saved your life!"

Spencer looked sheepish - well, as sheepish as Spencer ever looked. "I know, but we can't rule anyone out..."

"What about Caleb, or Toby, or Ezra, why aren't they on the list?" Emily fumed.

Hanna chimed in, "Caleb's not even here. He's in Ravenswood."

Spencer looked thoughtful. "So we think. I'll add him." Now it was Hanna's turn to look incensed.

Aria looked pretty apathetic. "You can add Ezra to the list, but I don't know what motive he could possibly have."

Spencer added him, too. Emily looked at her expectantly. "And Toby?"

Spencer rolled her eyes. "Fine, if it will make you happy."

"What would make me happy is if you took Paige off entirely! It's ridiculous that you even considered it could be her. I mean for goodness sake, Lyndon James kidnapped her and held her hostage. She had to watch him chase me out of the cabin with a knife. Do you really think she would voluntarily drudge up that memory for either one of us?"

Tears were welling up in Emily's eyes, whether from the memory or from anger she didn't know. Spencer looked at her with apologetic eyes. "You're right, Em, I'm sorry." She took Paige, Caleb, Toby and Ezra off the list. "We should be more realistic if we're going to help Myka and H.G. solve this. We can't add anyone to the suspect list until we have probable cause."

Aria nodded, Hanna rolled her eyes, and Emily took deep breaths to try to calm herself down. Spencer looked around at her three friends and said, "Maybe we should call it a day. We can talk tomorrow in school." The girls mumbled in agreement and all got up to leave.

Emily was jolted back to the present by the sound of her phone going off. She dug it out of her pocket without sitting up and opened her new text. It was from Paige. "Hey, can I see you tonight?"

Emily sighed. She wasn't sure she could face her girlfriend right now. Between the Lyndon James sighting and the meeting with the agents, she had too many secrets to keep, and she hated lying to Paige.

"I can't, parents are insisting on family dinner. I'll see you in the morning, courtyard, 8:30?"

Well, she hated lying more than she had to. Her phone beeped again. "See you then. Sweet dreams."

Emily felt the tear run down past her temple before she knew she was crying. "Sweet dreams," she responded.

* * *

Paige threw her phone across the room at her bed. It bounced off the mattress and bounded to the opposite side of the room, landing on the floor with a sickening 'thud'. She left her stance at the window, where she had been staring at shadows, daring any of them to take the form of Maya St. Germain, to fetch her discarded cell.

She was grateful to see the phone was unharmed, but the text conversation that had sent it flying in the first place was still displayed brightly on the screen.

Paige had spent half the day gathering up the courage to tell Emily what had happened - what she saw, and that she had talked to Agents Bering and Wells about it. She had planned out exactly how she was going to word it, right down to the explanation of why she hadn't told Emily first. But then Emily shut her down and all of her courage flew out the window to dance with the shadows that refused to take human form.

She knew it wasn't Emily's fault if her parents insisted on a family dinner, but she couldn't help but worry that the agents had gone back on their promise and had told Emily what she told them. If they had, Emily would be angry with her for lying, and would be avoiding her.

Though if she was angry and avoiding her, she wouldn't have made plans to meet before school; she would have just waited until lunchtime when they always see each other anyway.

"Aughhh!" Paige flopped onto her bed, facedown, and screamed into the pillows. _You'll drive yourself crazy thinking like this, McCullers. Just trust that she loves you and would tell you if she was angry._

Paige sat up and took a few deep breaths, gripping the edge of her bed. _You'll see her in the morning. You'll be able to tell if she's angry, which she probably isn't. And even if she is, there's nothing you can do about it now._ Paige furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, as though she were trying to physically shake out the thoughts that were swarming around in there, threatening to consume her. She stood up suddenly and headed toward her bedroom door. She figured some human interaction might do her good.

Her parents were in the middle of making dinner when she came into the kitchen. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, sidling up to her mother.

"Sure, sweetie," her mother responded, looking at her questioningly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just wanted to help," Paige answered, not meeting her mother's eyes.

She wrapped her hand around Paige's head and gently pulled her in, pressing a kiss onto her daughter's temple. "Those potatoes on the table need to be peeled."

Paige's father turned away from the cabinet he was pulling ingredients out of to look at Paige's mother in mock horror. "Are you sure she can handle that? I wouldn't want the fire department to break down our door!"

Paige rolled her eyes and smiled. "That was one time!"

"Twice, dear, but who's counting," Paige's mother added with a wink before going back to chopping carrots.

Paige sat down to start peeling the potatoes and let out a quiet sigh. She hoped this would serve to distract her, at least until bedtime, when she would inevitably run through the past two days' events in her head in excruciating detail.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

When Myka heard her Farnsworth go off, she still had her arms wrapped tightly around Helena, but they were both lying down, on top of the covers, both fully dressed. They were facing one another, and had been deep in hushed, painfully honest conversation. They shared memories of the past, fears for their present, and hopes for their future. It was the first time in a long time they had been truly alone together and able to talk so fluidly. Myka had every intention of ignoring her Farnsworth, but Helena released her hold on her and insisted she take the call. They were here for a mission, after all. There would be plenty of time to talk when they got back to South Dakota, if all went well.

Myka tried, but wasn't sure she expelled all the weariness from her expression before she answered Artie's call. "Hi, Artie. What've you got for us?"

"We think we know what the artifact you're looking for is."

Myka perked up, and Helena did, too, peeking over her shoulder at her screen. "What is it?"

Pete pushed his way into view in front of Artie. "Lay in canoe day law sane!"

Artie's exasperated look caused Pete to disappear from view. "_L'Inconnue de la Seine_. It's a mask, created in the late 19th century."

"Yes," Helena said, a thoughtful look on her face, "that makes sense..." Myka looked at her imploringly, so Helena continued, "It was housed in Warehouse 12 back before I was bronzed." Myka's eyes darted down at the thought, but Helena went on. "It was shelved before my time there, but I read about it in our archive report. It's a mask made of a young girl supposedly drowned in a river, the mortician was enamored by her beauty and made a death mask of her, yet no one came forward to identify her."

Artie nodded in the little screen. "Yes, and in a strange, unique turn of events, this specific mask was replicated a number of times, and it's believed that with each duplication, the original gained power. There had been hundreds of other death masks made before this, and more after, but something about this one made it unique, made people drawn to it even without realizing why."

"So you think the original death mask is the artifact?" Myka asked.

"Indeed. The creator of the mask so wanted to preserve the face of this dead woman, to possess it, that now, whoever has control of the mask can take the form of any deceased person."

"So how do we find the mask?" Helena asked.

Artie threw up his hands in frustration. "That's what you need to find out!"

Pete appeared again to chime in, "Claudia is looking for clues as to where the mask might have been seen last."

Suddenly Claudia's voice drifted into the conversation from somewhere off screen. "I have a lead!"

Pete wiggled his eyebrows and picked up the Farnsworth, turning it towards Claudia.

"With modern technology, the process of making death masks is pretty much obsolete, but the art of making plaster molds from human faces is still alive. Alive being the key word here." Claudia took the Farnsworth from Pete so she was talking directly into the communication device. "There's a mask-maker just outside the Rosewood town line...kiiiind of creepily in the woods. He might be able to help you - if he doesn't have it, he has probably heard of it, considering he's into the rare and super-creepy craft of mask-making, and he might know where it is now."

"We need a name, Claudia," Helena said, with all the gentleness her voice could portray.

"Oh, right!" Claudia laughed. "His name is Hector Lime, he has a cabin oh-so-originally named Hector's Studio, in the woods surrounding Rosewood. I'll send the exact coordinates to your cell phone."

Myka felt a familiar rush of excitement wash over her. "Thanks, Claudia!"

"No problemo!"

Artie took the Farnsworth back from Claudia and added, "Myka, I cannot express to you the importance of being careful. You have an advantage, because you know what's going on, but the appearance of deceased figures from people's pasts can cause nostalgia to take over. Or worse, regret. Everyone is susceptible to their own emotions, and those emotions can cause people to do unspeakable things. This kind of perception-altering artifact can cause people to lose all sense of reality."

Both Myka and Helena nodded. "We know, Artie," Myka said. She felt Helena's hand cover her own, their fingers interlacing on top of the motel comforter. "We'll find it. We'll stop it."

Artie set the Farnsworth down on the table, making him look and sound more distant than before. "I know you will!" he called out, before flicking the device off.

Myka set her Farnsworth on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to determine their next move. She felt Helena brush her hair off her shoulder and place a kiss on her neck. Helena's hand moved from her hair to her shoulder. "You're so tense." She started kneading Myka's shoulders with her strong hands. Myka practically purred in response.

"It's unlikely a mask maker in the middle-of-nowhere Pennsylvania is open on a Sunday at all, let alone at this hour," Helena encouraged, now using both of her hands to massage both of Myka's shoulders. She leaned in and whispered, "We might as well make the most of tonight."

* * *

As H.G. worked on the knots in Myka's shoulders, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the day's events and to what Artie and Claudia had just told them. Her mind raced through all the people in her life that could appear to her... everyone she cared about from before she was bronzed. Her parents, her brother...her daughter. She took solace in the fact that Artie and Claudia seemed convinced that it was being controlled by a person, meaning it would most likely be a person alive today. That person, even upon researching H.G. Wells, would have no reason to believe the name was actually referring to a woman, let alone a woman alive in the 21st century.

If she were being honest with herself, her main concern was for Myka. A person of this century, there were any of number of people, even besides Sam, that this person could appear as to Myka that would throw her off her usually on-point game. From ex-partners to artifact victims, from Leena to even criminals she was forced to take down to save the life of an innocent or a fellow agent. H.G. knew that Myka had a tough exterior, but a delicate soul, and that seeing any of these people could and would shake her, even if she consciously knew they weren't really appearing before her. And the last thing H.G. needed was Myka to be shaken up and rendered useless in their battle against this invisible evil. She needed her partner - in life, love, and work - to balance her and help her find this foe.

Myka's groan of approval as she worked through a particularly stubborn knot caused H.G. to forget the worries that plagued her and concentrate on the stunning individual before her. Upon being consumed by Myka's beauty, she couldn't help but use her right hand to pull Myka's bushel of curls away from her neck and kiss her there again, her left hand doing its best to keep up its massaging rhythm. She worked each bunched tendon carefully, because as much as she wanted to relieve Myka of the burden she carried for everyone but herself, she didn't want to hurt her. H.G. hoped that their conversation tonight helped Myka understand that she shouldn't bear any guilt for anything in H.G.'s life, from Christina's death all the way to her attempt at recreating family by way of Nate and his daughter Adelaide. Not one bit of it was Myka's fault, and if anything, their last few months apart were H.G.'s fault for becoming so entranced with the young girl who reminded her so much of her own daughter, and by association her father who was left in such a vulnerable position.

She had known, even at the time, that it wasn't fair to any of the parties involved - not her, not Adelaide, not Nate - but she was so blinded by the idea of family, so enthralled by this partially-constructed one that she fit right into, that she couldn't resist. But it was moments like this - when she talked to Artie, Pete, and Claudia, when she was out hunting artifacts, when she was with Myka - that she truly felt at home. She pressed a kiss onto Myka's head, taking in her distinct scent that always somehow had a hint of strawberry. Myka turned to face her and H.G. drank in every detail of her face.

A smile crept across Myka's beautiful face. "What?" she asked.

H.G. smiled and placed a pack on Myka's nose. "Nothing, my love," she said. "Just so glad you're mine." And Myka _was_ hers. Her life, her love... her family.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

When Emily got to school that morning, Agents Bering and Wells were sitting on a park bench across the street from the school. She made eye contact with Myka, who gave a wave and a nod of her head that invited her to come over without demanding it. Emily locked her bike to the bike rack and headed over to the two women, noticing that Paige's bike was already there.

"Hi Emily, do you have a minute to talk?" Myka and H.G. stood up as she approached their bench.

Emily looked at her watch before answering Myka. 8:25. "Sure."

Myka opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Spencer and Hanna appearing at Emily's side. "Hey," Hanna greeted her friend, who was relieved to have backup. Spencer glared at the agents with a hostility the women were obviously not expecting, judging by the looks on their faces.

H.G. held her hands up in a defensive position. "We just have a few questions for you girls."

"We need your help," Myka added.

"Jeez, retract the claws, Spence." Hanna was looking at Spencer like she had two heads. "What has gotten into you this morning?" She turned to the rest of the group. "She almost ripped my arm off when I tapped her on the shoulder."

Spencer's intensity lessened slightly, "I keep expecting Garrett or someone to jump out of the bushes at me. I can't live like this."

Emily looked to the agents. "How can we help?"

"We spoke to our boss last night, and he thinks there might be a mask involved somehow."

All three girls' eyes widened and they started talking all at once. H.G. interrupted them. "Girls! One at a time, please."

Somehow, Emily started before Spencer could jump in. "There's a mask maker in the woods, he makes molds of people's faces, he made masks that looked just like Ali. He made a mold of my face, too," she added, sheepishly.

"Hector Lime?"

Emily nodded in response to Myka's question.

"We need you to tell us where to find him, and everything you know about him."

The girls told the agents - taking turns speaking this time - about Hector's Studio and everything they had learned about him, from what he told them, from what Melissa Hastings had told them, everything. They had just finished giving Myka and H.G. directions when the school bell rang, warning them that it was time to get to homeroom.

"Shit!" Emily's hand flew up to her mouth, as the curse surprised even her. "Sorry, I was supposed to meet Paige, I have to go."

"We should go, too."

The women waved their goodbyes and parted ways, Emily rushing ahead to stop by the courtyard to apologize to Paige before they went to their separate homerooms. As she got closer to the courtyard, she broke into a jog, weaving through students as they flooded into the building. When she got there, however, Paige wasn't in their usual meeting spot. Emily cursed again, this time under her breath. She waited until the courtyard cleared before deciding Paige had already left to get to class. She started to pull out her phone to text her apology when the bell rang again, signaling the beginning of school. She was late. She shoved her phone back in her bag and raced off to homeroom.

* * *

Paige tapped her leg nervously all throughout homeroom. She didn't hear a word of the school announcements her teacher was dryly reading off a sheet of paper. She was holding her phone under her desk and had typed out about thirteen different versions of the same text to Emily, but each one ended up being deleted before it was sent. It wasn't like Emily to miss their planned meetings, but it also wouldn't be the first time she got caught up in something with her friends and accidentally blown her off. And with the agents in town, she knew there could be a lot going on that she wasn't privy to. But then of course there was always the possibility that the agents had let it slip that Paige had met with them and Emily was mad at her for not telling her. Or worse, they could have told Emily what she had seen and Emily could think she was making the whole thing up and now she didn't want to see or talk to Paige. Or maybe Maya's ghost appeared to Emily, too, and now she was too scared to leave her room for fear of seeing her dead girlfriend again.

Paige shook her head sharply. She took a deep breath in and let it out. She was letting her mind get away from her, assuming the worst like she always did. She took another breath and typed out a message and hit send.

"Missed you this morning, hope everything's okay."

She felt a wave of relief wash over her when she received a response almost immediately. "I was just about to text you, Myka and H.G. were outside and had questions."

Paige almost felt lightheaded, she was so grateful that Emily was okay and that she hadn't blown her off because she didn't want to talk to her. Her phone buzzed again. "See you at lunch?" Paige smiled at her phone and answered that she would see Emily at lunch.

"Anything you care to share with the class, Miss McCullers?"

Paige felt her ears get hot when the teacher mentioned her name and she slid down a little in her chair, trying to will herself invisible. She shook her head, embarrassed.

"I thought not. Please put your phone away between the bells."

Paige mumbled an apology and slid her phone into her bag, trying not to meet any of the eyes now pointed in her direction. She was grateful when the bell rang and she could dart out of the classroom, almost taking her chair down with her bag on the way.

When she saw Emily in the lunchroom later that day, her heart soared. All the anxieties that had been building up in her chest since last night floated away when her girlfriend came up to her and greeted her with a kiss. Paige automatically started walking toward the table they always sat at with Spencer, Hanna, and Aria, but Emily guided her past the table. "I told them I'm all yours today. I thought we could make up our courtyard date from this morning."

Paige tried her best to contain her excitement, but from the amused look on Emily's face, she had to imagine her eyes and her smile were giving her away. She felt like she was gliding as she followed Emily outside, where they sat together and talked about their swim practice schedule for the week, upcoming tests, and finally, when they would have time to see each other again, outside of school. Emily suddenly looked serious. "Actually, is there any way we could hang out tonight? Even just go for a drive? I need to talk to you about something." Her eyes darted around the courtyard. "Somewhere private."

Paige felt as though her heart had turned to a solid block of ice and then dropped into her stomach. Her heart started racing, sending the chilled feeling through her whole body. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile she hoped was convincing. "Sure, after swim?"

It didn't matter if Paige's face showed what she was thinking, because Emily wasn't looking at her, but instead at the remains of the salad she was picking at with her fork. Paige mustered up her courage and asked, "Is...is everything okay?"

Emily looked up and smiled at Paige, a soft smile that didn't travel all the way to her eyes. "Yeah, everything's fine." She took Paige's hands in hers. "I should get going, I have to grab some books in my locker before the bell." Paige nodded with understanding. Emily kissed her again and stood up. She gave her a lingering look before disappearing into the school. Paige felt the cold, heavy feeling in her stomach grow until it felt like her lungs might be made of ice. Her mind raced once more through all the possibilities of what Emily could want to talk about, none of them good, not based on the look on her face. The bell rang, but Paige remained sitting, still frozen. It wasn't until another student who had missed the bell went breezing past her that she was snapped out of her trance and rushed off to class.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't come over? You can always come over." Hanna's whispers came out a little louder than intended from her shock. "Spencer said we need to plan our next move."

"We have no next move. Myka and H.G. are handling it." Emily spoke out of the side of her mouth, doing her best to look like she was following along with the teacher as he read aloud from their textbook.

"Em, you know Spencer isn't going to just let this go. And you can't leave me alone with her when she's like this!"

"You'll be fine. Besides, won't Aria be there?"

"Oh like Spencer would ever do anything to Aria. I, on the other hand, could have my head bitten off! She's like one of those scary demon grasshopper bugs!"

Emily threw Hanna a side glance. "You mean a praying mantis?"

Hanna rolled her eyes. "Whatever! Seriously, why can't you come?"

"Because I'm seeing Paige tonight. I have to tell her everything that's going on. I can't keep avoiding her, and every time I do see her and don't tell her anything, I feel like I'm lying to her."

Hanna pouted, but had no argument. She knew she would have told Caleb everything that was going on if he were around, so she couldn't be upset with Emily for wanting to do the same. It's not that she couldn't handle Spencer, it had just been a while since she had seen Spencer so riled up and she knew they were better as a team. "Fine," she said, the sharpness gone from her voice. "But call me as soon as you get home."

It was Emily's turn to roll her eyes, but she did it with a smile. "Yes, dear." Hanna made a sassy face and leaned back in her chair, idly doodling on her notebook. Even if Emily couldn't come over, she _was _glad Spencer and Aria would be there. She didn't feel like being alone with everything that was going on.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Helena let out a low whistle as Myka pulled up to the cabin in the middle of the woods. "Are you sure we didn't drive through a time portal as well? It's practically dark as night in these woods."

Myka peered out of the window. "It certainly isn't cheerful."

The two women watched the cabin for a minute. "Do you reckon anyone's in there?"

Myka shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

The agents got out of the car, both instinctively placing one hand on their holstered Tesla guns. They paused on the porch, listening for any signs of activity inside. When they heard none, Myka knocked loudly on the door. "Mr. Lime?" she called out. She got no response. "Hector Lime, my name is Agent Bering and I'm here with my partner Agent Wells. We're from the Secret Service and we have a few questions for you." They listened again and heard nothing.

Myka unholstered her Tesla and nodded at Helena to do the same. After she did, Myka placed her hand on the doorknob and turned. When it gave her no resistance, she called out again, "Mr. Lime, the door is unlocked, we're coming in." She pushed the door slightly and it swung open with a creak. She took a few tentative steps in and called out the Studio owner's name one more time, still evoking no response. She held her Tesla out and scanned the studio while Helena kept guard at the door. "All clear," she said, holstering her weapon. Helena followed her into the cabin, holstering hers as well.

"Here I thought it couldn't possibly be as creepy on the inside as it was on the outside..."

Helena wasn't exaggerating. The walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of masks. Some plain plaster, some plastic, some painted, some unfinished. And some so lifelike they sent a chill down Myka's spine. In the center of a room was what almost looked like a dentist chair, and all around it were work benches cluttered with paint cans, sinister-looking tools, and masks in various stages of completion. She went over to one and picked it up, her fingers gently tracing over cracks along its surface. It looked like it had been glued back together. Helena had walked toward the other end of the room and picked something up, turning to face Myka. "Myka, please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

Myka turned to look, her eyes widening in horror. "Emily did tell us she let him take a plaster cast of her face." Helena turned the painted mask over in her hands, then handed it to Myka as she came to stand next to her. Myka was amazed at how detailed the mask was, from the curves of Emily's cheekbones to the painting of her eyebrows. One eye was painted to match Emily's eye color exactly, but the other eye was missing. No, not missing. Purposefully and carefully cut out. The lines were clean, even, and precise.

Myka held the mask up and pressed it against her face. Helena shook her head in disbelief. "It's almost seamless." Myka stepped up to the window and looked at her reflection in the glass. Aside from the two eyes being different colors, you could hardly tell that one eye was cut out and that it wasn't a solid mask. And when she took a step backwards, the dim light that crept into the cabin through the trees was out of reach and the mask's shiny reflection dimmed. If she didn't know any better, she would think Emily was standing on the other side of the window, peering in at her.

"Can I help you, ladies?"

The assertive voice startled Myka and she jumped to aim her Tesla at the source. She saw that Helena had been quick to do the same. The man they faced put both his hands up in a slow, nonchalant manner, a twisted smirk creeping across his face. "Funny, you act as though _I'm_ the intruder."

The man's voice was soft and even-toned, unlike his hair which was wild and unkempt. His nails were dark, though whether it was from nail polish or paint, Myka couldn't tell in this light. When it was clear that he was not only unarmed, but also nonplussed by their presence, the women put away their Teslas once more.

"Sorry to intrude, Mr. Lime, but your door was op-"

"Call me Hector."

Myka ignored the interruption. "Your door was open and we need to ask you some questions about a mask."

Hector chuckled, and it wasn't clear if it was because of his smile, his tone, or his dark shadow of a beard, but Myka found the laugh unsettling.

"Well then, beautiful. You have come to the right place."

* * *

H.G. felt her whole body tense at Hector's words. She knew Myka was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but she didn't like the way he was looking at her. She decided to cut right to the chase. The less time they spent with this man, the better. "Have you ever heard of _L'Inconnue de la Seine_?"

This elicited a laugh from Hector, and not a particularly cheerful one. "I'm in the business of masks, of course I have. Have you, miss…?"

"_Agent_ Wells. And yes, I have. Do you have a replica of it in your possession, Mr. Lime?" She figured that even a master mask maker might not believe he owned the original mask. He considered her question, his eyes searching her face for something. Then H.G. realized he wasn't searching her face, he was studying it.

Myka must have realized it in that moment as well, because she spoke up, redirecting his attention to her instead. "If you do, we need to see it," she said in an authoritative voice, placing her hands on her hips. As she did, she used one hand to subtly move her blazer and reveal her badge.

Hector's eyes flitted from her badge and back to her face again and he smiled a cocky smile. He slid his hands into the front pockets of his stained apron and rocked back on his heels. "Even if I did have one, why would I give it to you?"

H.G. was growing impatient with this man. She couldn't tell if he was off his rocker or just arrogant, but either way she wanted to neutralize the mask and get out. "Because if you let us see it now, we will handle it with the utmost of care. If you force our hand and we have to get a warrant to see it, it will temporarily become our property and I can't promise we'll be so gentle."

H.G. was glad to see out of the corner of her eye that Myka didn't balk at her bold-faced lie. She wasn't even sure the Rosewood police department knew what a warrant was; what she was sure of was that they didn't have enough evidence - or any evidence, really - that would grant them a warrant to take any of Hector Lime's masks.

Hector's smile faded, but only slightly. He looked as though he didn't entirely believe her, but wasn't willing to risk the fact that she could be telling the truth. There were still remnants of a grin on his face when he turned around and headed towards some shelves in the back. "Wait here."

Myka and H.G. shifted on their feet as they waited for Hector to return. Myka threw a glance at the door. H.G. was glad their path outside seemed unobstructed, just in case Hector came back with something other than the mask. When the mask-maker did come back, he was holding a square wooden box. He placed it on one of the work benches and blew a layer of dust off the top of it. H.G. found this curious. If this box really did contain the mask, and the mask had been used to terrorize Rosewood, why would it seem as though the box had remained untouched for some time?

All the same, Myka was pulling purple gloves out of her back pocket and slipping them on as Hector opened the box. The women stepped closer to have a peek, and sure enough, inside was a white plaster mask, resting on a black velvety surface. The face exactly matched the picture of _L'Inconnue de la Seine_ that Claudia has sent them. A young woman, hair parted down the middle, her eyes closed, a serene smile on her face. "She's beautiful," H.G. said in a whisper. The three of them admired the mask for a moment, until an obscene noise almost like a purr came out of Hector Lime. This quickly broke their wonderment and H.G. put her purple gloves on as well. She carefully picked up the mask and turned to Myka, who was now holding open a silver bag she had unfolded from inside her blazer pocket.

"You might want to look away," Myka advised as H.G. let go of the mask and let it fall into the bag. Both women threw their arms up over their eyes and leaned away to protect them from the impending flash, but the flash never came. Myka stood up straight again and cautiously peeked into the bag. She looked up at H.G. "Nothing," she said, surprise evident in her voice. Myka took the mask out of the bag and inspected it. "Well if that's not the artifact, what is?"

H.G. turned to ask Hector where he got the mask to see him looking horrified at the two women. She took the mask from Myka and gently presented it to him for his inspection. "No need to fret, Hector," she said in as comforting a tone she could muster. She lowered the mask back into its box. "No harm done."

"Th-th-th," Hector stammered, still looking at them in disbelief of what he had just witnessed. "That is a cast made from the original death mask of _L'Inconnue de Seine_ you just threw into a freezer bag!"

"It's not a-"

"Do you have any idea how much this cost? How much it's _worth_?!" His eyes were glazed over, his voice getting higher-pitched with every word.

H.G. decided the best thing to do was distract him from the event with questions about his beloved mask. Hopefully that would help him remember that it was still in his possession and totally intact. "Where did you come across such a rarity?"

"I have my connections."

"How long have you had it?"

Hector's glazed eyes were trained on the mask, his voice grew dreamy. "About two and a half years. When I first got it, I could do nothing but stare at it for two days straight. Only took it out of the box once every few months, for special occasions." H.G. and Myka exchanged looks that said they both were acutely aware that the man standing in front of them was not on the same plane of reality they were. They watched him carefully to see if he would continue. He turned to face them, but didn't seem to really see them. "That is, until I met _her_."

"Her?"

"Oh, she looked so much like her, like _L'Inconnue de la Seine,_" he said wistfully. "She was young, beautiful, a smile always dancing on her lips."

"Who did? Who looked like _L'Inconnue?_"

"Alison."

H.G. was not expecting that to be the answer to her question. "Alison D'Laurentis?"

"Yes, when I saw her I knew, I just had to have her face. She would be my _L'Inconnue._"

H.G. tried her hardest not to let her disgust of how he was speaking about a 16 year old girl show through on her face. Considering how quickly he had shifted from a lucid asshole to a dazed spirit was beyond her, and she didn't want to see what other personalities he had under that scruffy beard of his.

Myka's face also remained unreadable, "Did she let you...have her face?" Myka hesitated at the words, but H.G. knew she was repeating his own words back to him so he wouldn't get spooked and close off. If he knew how much they were weirded out by this whole interaction, he wouldn't trust them anymore.

"Oh, yes. I made so many copies of her face. Her perfect face. None were ever quite as lovely as the original face, but oh they were exquisite...my finest work..." His voice trailed off.

Suddenly H.G. had a thought. "Do you still have the very first mask you made of Alison?"

Hector seemed to become almost lucid at this question. "No, not anymore. I actually just sold it a few days ago."

"Sold it?" Myka asked, sounding genuinely shocked.

This revelation also caught H.G. unawares. "A moment ago you were speaking about it as though it were your prized possession, but you sold it?"

Hector waved his hand dismissively, slowly returning to the man who first appeared to them in the cabin. "My first mask was hardly my best one. I hadn't even painted it. It just served as a model for a blank canvas for the others. Most of them are out of my hands now. I have my favorite one saved in my personal collection. Selling the original was worth it for the money I was offered."

"Who did you sell it to?"

Hector Lime's skeezy grin appeared once more on his face. "That information will cost you."

* * *

"I can't believe you let him take a mold of your face."

The two agents got into the car and Myka started it practically before both doors were closed.

"It seemed a small price to pay for the information we need." Still, Myka shuddered. She could still feel the sensation of the cold plaster drying on her skin. The only good thing about the process was that it gave them time to talk to Hector longer without him feeling like he was under interrogation.

"You heard the way he was talking about Alison's mask! I shudder to imagine him saying those things about you."

"Well luckily we will never have to hear him say them, or anything at all. I don't know about you, but I never plan on coming anywhere near this cabin again."

"Nor do I."

Myka turned the car around and pointed it in the direction of Rosewood High once again. "I will say, as soon as he started covering my eyes and mouth with the plaster, I was very glad that you were there with me. And that you were armed."

Helena chuckled from the passenger seat and gently placed her hand over Myka's, which was resting on the gear shift between them.

"I'm never leaving your side again, Myka Ophelia Bering."

Myka glanced over at Helena, wishing she could kiss her without crashing them into a tree. Instead she turned her hand over on the gear shift, linking their fingers together. She looked back at the winding dirt road that was leading them out of the woods when she thought she saw something shiny and silver in the road ahead of them. She slammed on the break but it was too late, she was past where she had seen the glint in the road. She put the car in park and got out. Just she feared, as soon as she opened the door, she heard a faint hissing sound coming from the front tire on the driver's side.

"What happened?" Helena called from the passenger seat.

"Flat tire," Myka answered.

Helena got out, came around the car, and squatted next to Myka, who was inspecting the damage. Myka stood up and stepped back. "I really hope this rental has a spare tire in the back." She reached into the car and popped the trunk, closing the door before heading to look. When she did, Helena moved closer to the car, still squatting.

"Myka, come look at this."

Myka halted before she reached the trunk and walked back toward Helena. She bent down again to see what Helena was pointing at. It was the shiny thing she had seen in the road, a twisted metal spike sticking up from beneath the dirt. Myka pulled one of her purple gloves out of her back pocket and grabbed the spike without bothering to put the glove all the way on. She was surprised when it didn't lift easily from the ground. "Odd, it's stuck." She wiggled the spike back and forth a bit until the dirt around it came loose. When it did, she gave it another tug, harder this time, and what looked like a hand tool came up out of the dirt.

"That was packed in there awfully tight."

Myka had to agree with Helena. What had come up from under the hard-packed dirt was a bulky handle, perpendicular to the spike. She imagined it was where you held the tool to use it, though she hadn't the faintest idea what it could be used for. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

Helena shook her head. "You don't think it was put there on purpose, do you?"

Myka looked up and down the road, not a person nor a car in sight. "I don't know...it _was _sticking up awfully straight."

"I suppose if someone wanted to target us, it would be easy enough. This road doesn't exactly seem well-traveled."

"We better take this just in case. Maybe Artie or Claudia can tell us what it is, and maybe that will give us a clue to who could have put it in the road. That is, if it was put there at all and not just dropped."

"Don't forget, they have already targeted you once. It would not be implausible that whoever is behind these appearances would like us out of their way."

Myka knew Helena was right. It seemed the person who possessed the artifact, whatever it was, didn't want the agents on the case. The good news was, if they were moving from trying to spook them to sabotaging their vehicle, it meant they were probably on the right track.

Myka stood up again and walked to the trunk, taking inventory of its contents. A spare tire, a car jack, AND a tire iron. It was a miracle. She made a mental note to applaud Artie in his choice of rental car dealers. She picked up the tire iron and swung it around like a baton. "So...do YOU know how to change a spare?"

"Ah, I'm afraid that's not one of the modern conveniences I've gotten fully up to speed with." Helena was leaning against the car now, in the perfect position to watch Myka place the tire iron and car jack beside the afflicted wheel. "This one is all you," she said, smiling an amused smile as Myka squared herself in front of the trunk, head to head with the tire stored in there.

Myka used the elastic on her wrist to tie up her curls into a ponytail, then she rubbed her hands together. "Let's change a tire!" Myka smirked at her companion. If Helena thought she was just going to watch, she had another thing coming.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Is everything okay?"

Emily looked up from her phone to see Paige watching her, a concerned look on her face. They were eating take-out Thai food in Emily's living room, and a movie was playing, though Emily couldn't tell you what it was about. She had been checking her phone every five minutes, waiting to hear if Agents Bering and Wells learned anything at Hector's Studio - and, quite frankly, a little worried for their safety - wondering if Spencer had come up with a plan, curious as to whether anyone had another sighting.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Sorry, I'll put it away."

"You didn't get another text from..."

Emily cut her off, feeling guilty for worrying her girlfriend, "No, no, nothing like that." Between checking her phone, she had been trying to figure out the best way to tell Paige about seeing Lyndon James and having meetings with the Agents. Emily was torn between not wanting to lie to Paige and not wanting to upset her. Besides the fact that mentioning Lyndon - specifically, mentioning _seeing_ Lyndon - would surely drudge up horrific memories of the night he kidnapped her, Emily knew that Paige felt protective over her, especially in light of the things that have happened over the past year, and she didn't want to tell Paige anything that might send her out on a hero's mission that could get her hurt.

"Emily?" Emily realized she had been staring at her wringing hands.

She looked up at Paige, "Mm?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

Emily's heart started beating far too fast. Conversations that started like this rarely ended well. This one would be no exception, judging from the nervous look on her girlfriend's face.

"What is it?" She held her breath and waited for Paige to answer.

Paige reached out and picked up the remote on the coffee table, pausing the movie. The sudden silence pierced the room, and Emily hoped Paige couldn't hear how fast and loud her heart was beating. Paige suddenly stood up and started pacing around the room.

"You know how, the other night, when I fell off my bike?"

Emily nodded but then realized Paige couldn't see her because her eyes were trained on the path she was taking as she walked aimlessly. "Yes, I remember. You said you got distracted."

"Right, and that's true, I did get distracted. But I didn't tell you _what_ distracted me..."

Emily waited. Paige glanced up and saw that Emily was still listening and continued. "I honestly wasn't going to tell you at all, because I didn't want to upset you, but when you said you were talking to the secret service agents and then said there was something you needed to talk to me about, I panicked because they promised me they wouldn't tell you but I don't know them from a hole in the wall and they could have been lying; it wouldn't be the first time the law enforcement lied to someone around here, you know?"

Emily tried to follow along, but Paige was talking fast and some of her words were lost to the floor as she paced and mumbled parts of it. Emily stood up and walked over to her, placing both hands gently on her shoulders, halting Paige in front of her. She tilted her head to catch Paige's eye and stood them both up straight. "Paige, slow down. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Emily felt Paige's shoulders relax beneath her hands. She took Paige's hand in her own and led her to the couch. "Let's start over. What did you see that made you fall off your bike?"

Paige took a deep breath and tried again. "I saw..." Paige shook her head and looked down at the floor. "It's going to sound insane."

Emily caught her eye again and gave her a small smile. "Everything in our lives has been insane lately. I can handle insane."

Paige nodded. "Okay." A sadness replaced the fear in her eyes. "I saw Maya."

Emily dropped Paige's hand and pulled back reflexively. She felt her blood run ice cold. "You what?"

"I mean, it wasn't really her - it couldn't have been, right? But I swear, one minute I was riding my bike down an empty street and the next Maya St. Germain was standing there staring at me. That's why I fell off my bike. By the time I got up again, she was gone."

Emily tried to process this. So it wasn't just her, Hanna, and Spencer that had seen someone that had died. Suddenly something else Paige said struck her.

"Did you say you told Myka and H.G.?"

Paige nodded slowly.

"When?"

"I called them after we met them outside the cafe. They came over later that night."

"You met them alone?"

Paige's nod was smaller this time.

"In your empty house?"

Paige only swallowed in response to this question.

Emily was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of panic, worry, fear, and anger all at once. She stood up and words came rushing out of her, "I can't believe you would do that! After everything we've been through - after everything _you've_ been through - that you would do something like that." The words were coming out more angry and harsh than worried, but Emily couldn't stop them. "I don't understand why you wouldn't have told me, do you think I wouldn't have gone with you?" She didn't give Paige a chance to answer the question. "At the very least, you could have at least had the sense to go somewhere other than an empty house when no one knew you were meeting them."

Emily stood up and grabbed her bag from beside the couch. "I have to go."

Paige stood up, her eyes red with tears threatening to fall. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go talk to Spencer, Hanna, and Aria. We also met with the agents," Paige raised an eyebrow so Emily added pointedly, "together, in the daylight, out in the open. I need to tell them that you saw someone, too. It could help us figure out who's behind all this."

"Too? Someone else saw Maya?"

Emily's eyes softened, but adrenaline was still racing through her, ringing in her ears. "Not Maya. We've all seen someone different."

"You...you saw someone." It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question.

Guilt added itself to the cluster of emotions she was feeling. She realized how hypocritical she must sound, but Paige couldn't keep putting herself in danger in the name of trying to help. She understood not telling her about seeing Maya, it was the same reason she hadn't told her about seeing Lyndon James, but to meet total strangers alone without telling anyone...it was reckless. Paige knew as well as the rest of them that Rosewood was no place to be reckless.

"We'll talk about this later. I have to go." She stormed out of Paige's house, not daring to look back as she got in her car and drove away. She knew if she saw Paige watching her leave, she would lose it. And she needed to get it together before she got to Hanna's house. She needed to present the information in a way that didn't make Paige come out in a bad light. The last thing she needed right now was for Spencer to be angry with Paige. If she knew when and how Paige met up with the agents, Spencer would surely move her up higher on the suspect list.

* * *

As soon as Emily's car was out of sight, Paige slammed the door. She let out a frustrated scream. She wasn't even sure what it was directed towards. She was frustrated at what Emily said, at Emily herself for leaving, at Emily for being right, at herself for not thinking of how dangerous it could have been if the agents had wanted to hurt her, at the tears streaming down her face. She clenched and unclenched her fists a few times, trying to force the anger to subside. Last time she felt like this she took it out on some innocent trash cans, and she didn't think her mother's vase would stand up to similar abuse.

When she couldn't slow her heart-rate down, she spun on her heels and marched back outside. She got on her bike and took off, not having any particular direction in mind, just needing to go. She pedaled faster and faster until the houses she flew by were just blurs of white and grey. The tears were drying on her cheeks as fast as they could come out of her eyes and she felt the anger burning out of her system.

When her knee-jerk emotions started to melt away, she began to think about what was really bothering her about the way Emily reacted to her news. She had expected Emily to be more upset she hadn't told her yet; she hadn't anticipated her being upset about meeting up with Agents Bering and Wells. And she hadn't trusted herself to say so during the argument, but she was a little hurt that Emily hadn't told her that she had met up with the agents, and that she had taken Hanna, Spencer, and Aria with her instead of asking Paige to come along. Paige banged her hand on her bike handle. Those girls would always come first. It was something she'd known all along, something she had tried to get past time and time again, but something that always threw her every single time it happened.

Paige slowed down her pedaling a little, feeling a lot calmer now that she let off some steam. She took in her surroundings to see where she ended up and realized she was at Emily's house. She came to a stop in front of it and looked at the dark house. Emily's car wasn't in the driveway, so she must have really gone straight to Hanna's. Paige considered going there to talk to Emily, but decided it would be best if they both kept their distance for now. She could talk to her tomorrow, when they were both calmer. She was about to head home again when something caught her eye in the shadows on the front porch. Paige froze and tried to make out the shape. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness on the street, she realized it was a person sitting on the bench. The person noticed her staring and stood up, stepping forward and letting the milky glow of the street light wash over her. Her. Paige went pale. _Maya._

Paige let her bike crash to the ground and started walking quickly towards Emily's front porch. Maya stood there, watching her, a smile spreading across her face. When Paige was about two feet away from reaching the porch, Maya gave her a little wave and bolted to the end of the porch, where she easily vaulted over the side of the low railing and ran off into the night. Paige froze, gawking after the disappearing figure. She had looked so real. So...alive. She absentmindedly wandered onto the porch, as though standing where Maya stood would give her some sort of clarity. It didn't, and there was nothing on the porch that could prove that anyone had been on it. Her mind was reeling. She had no idea what she should do. All she knew was that she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Paige ran down the steps of the porch and hopped on her bicycle, heading in the direction of Hanna Marin's house.

* * *

Hanna jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

"Who is that?" Aria asked.

"Do I look like I have x-ray vision?" Hanna snapped. "At least whoever it is has the decency to give us fair warning that they're here." She cast a sidelong glance at Emily. She had been on edge ever since Emily had scared the living daylights out of her, Spencer, and Aria by using her key to get in and just appearing in the bedroom doorway.

"I said I was sorry!" Emily didn't sound particularly sorry anymore. Probably because Hanna had brought it up five times already since she arrived.

"What if it's someone dead?!" Hanna asked, fear cracking her voice.

Spencer rolled her eyes. "Ghosts don't tend to ring doorbells, Hanna. Nor do people posing as them."

"Oh because you have sooo much experience in the matter." Hanna was a little tired of Spencer acting like she knew so much more than the rest of them. Sure, she was easily the smartest, but there were no books on the things they had experienced over the past two years. At least, not that Hanna knew of.

The doorbell rang again, and again Hanna jumped. "Are you going to get that?" Spencer sounded a little tired of Hanna, too.

"By myself?!"

Emily stood up. "I'll come with you."

The two girls went downstairs and hesitated before the closed door. Hanna placed her hand on the doorknob and Emily stood back. They silently counted together, one, two...on three, Hanna swung the door open. Three gasps filled the hallway, and then Hanna let out a sigh. "Oh, Paige it's you." Paige gave Hanna a half-smile and a little wave with one hand, her other hand over her heart. "Sorry, you scared us."

Hanna took a step back and let Paige into the hallway. When she closed the door and turned around, she saw Emily had her arms crossed and was shifting uncomfortably on her feet. "What's wrong with you two?" Hanna demanded. They were usually smiling like the Cheshire Cat whenever they were within two feet of each other. "Two days ago you couldn't keep your hands off each other and now you're not even making eye contact." She could tell her bluntness made the two girls a little uncomfortable, but she wasn't one to beat around the bush.

Emily didn't answer Hanna's question, but looked to Paige instead. "What are you doing here?" There was no harshness in her tone, just a genuine curiosity, and Hanna thought she detected a hint of sadness.

"I was just out for a bike ride and I saw...I saw something. I thought you guys would want to know."

Hanna threw up her hands. "Great, more ghost sightings, just what we needed. Follow me, this week's meeting of the Midnight Society is going on up here." She saw Emily and Paige exchange small smiles at the reference. Hanna felt pretty proud of herself. If it's one thing she was good at in a crisis, it was having something to say about it.

Hanna plopped back into her spot on her bed when she got back to her room; Emily took her spot right next to her. Paige stood awkwardly by the doorway, unsure of where to go.

"Oh, hey Paige! So glad it's you and not a ghost!" Aria smiled and scooched over on the futon she was sitting on. "Come, sit!" Paige still looked very uncomfortable, but she did as Aria requested.

Spencer scowled at Aria. "There are no ghosts!"

Hanna chimed in. "I wouldn't be so sure about that! Paige, what did you come here to tell us. You said you saw something. Was it a ghost?"

All four girls were looking at Paige, waiting for her response, and her ears turned red at the attention. She looked up from her hands to Emily, as if asking for help, or for permission.

"I already told them you saw Maya Friday night," Emily said in an assuring voice.

This seemed to give Paige a little more confidence. "I just saw her again."

Aria's eyes grew wide and Hanna gasped. Spencer started in with the third degree. "What? Where? When?"

Emily shot Spencer a look that ended the question stream and turned to Paige. "Go ahead, tell us everything."

When Paige finished detailing her encounter, Spencer was the first to speak. "Before you two can say anything," she glanced from Aria to Hanna, "ghosts don't run, either."

"I don't know who made you the expert on ghosts," Hanna said, but seeing the look in Spencer's eye decided to soften the blow, "but I guess that makes sense."

Paige looked at Spencer and asked earnestly, "If it wasn't a ghost, what was it?"

"Or who was it?" Spencer responded. Both girls wore severe expressions.

"It can't be Maya, though, right?" Emily's voice betrayed her and let out a hint of a quiver of sadness that her tightened jaw and focused eyes were trying to hide. Hanna reached over and took her friend's hand.

"No, Em. She's gone."

"But that's what we thought about Ali, too, right? Before we saw her? Before we found out she was back?" Hanna felt a few escaped tears drip off Emily's face onto her hand.

Spencer got up from the desk chair she was in and sat on the bed on the other side of Emily, wrapping a long arm around her shoulder. "Emily, given everything that's happened this weekend...we have to consider the possibility that Ali-"

"No. Don't you dare finish that sentence." Emily stood up and broke free of her friends' hold on her. "I need some water, I'll be right back." Emily left the room quickly and they heard her footsteps head down to the kitchen.

Hanna automatically moved to follow her but Spencer held out her arm to stop her. "Give her a minute." Hanna nodded and sat back down. They looked over at Paige, who had gone sheet white. She was staring at the floor like it was spinning beneath her and she looked unsteady in her seat.

"Paige, are you okay?"

She looked up at them, her eyes red and almost scared. Her voice came out a choked whisper, "You saw Alison?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Did you find the mask?"

"Hello to you, too, Artie."

Artie didn't look to be in the mood for games. Myka imagined having to reel in Claudia and Pete with only Steve to help was probably exhausting, so she decided to take it easy on him.

"We did find the mask, but it wasn't the artifact."

By the time Myka and Helena had changed the tire and gotten back into town, the sun was already starting to cast long shadows on the ground and the school day was long since over. Now they were back in their dank motel room once more, which, after two days of being aired out and lived in, was starting to smell less like a cave and more like a place humans could inhabit. Myka had started telling the story of what they learned in Hector Lime's studio while absentmindedly pacing around the room, but Artie had told her she was making him seasick, so she sat on the empty bed and told the rest. She occasionally looked over at Helena, who was sitting on the edge of the other bed, flipping through the notes Myka had taken so far that weekend.

When Myka got to the tale of their ride home, Helena tossed her the strange tool that had punctured their tire, which bounced on the bed and into Myka's lap. Helena then returned to flipping through the pages of Myka's notebook, not bothering to go over to the empty bed where Myka sat to get into frame on the Farnsworth.

"Hold it up, I can't see it," Artie demanded, and Myka did as she was told, positioning the tool that had flattened their tire up at a better angle for Artie to see through the Farnsworth.

"Hm, how curious. And you said it was buried in the road?"

"Yes, handle-side down. Almost like it had been planted there."

"You don't suppose it could be some sort of weapon?" Helena asked.

"If it is, it's not like any weapon I've ever seen." Artie turned around at the sound of people entering his office from the Warehouse. "Oh good, Steve, Claudia, you're here. "Where's Pete?" The two exchanged guilty looks. "Actually, nevermind, I don't want to know. Do either of you have any idea what this could be?"

Claudia's eyes got a mischievous gleam to them. "An ice pick? A corkscrew! An eyeball poker-outer! A-"

"It's a t-handle," Steve interrupted.

Claudia pouted. "A what-now?"

"A t-handle, it's a tool I use for my bike - ironically enough, it's supposed to be used to _repair _tires."

Myka turned the tool over in her hands. "Is this something anyone with a bike would own?" It had been years since she'd ridden, and she had never repaired her own tires.

"Nah, I think most people just buy new tires or get it fixed at a bike shop. Only avid bikers or do-it-yourselfers would be making these kinds of repairs themselves."

"Look at you, Jinksy! I told you that you'd come in handy someday!" At this, Steve grabbed Claudia and pulled her into a fake headlock. Artie huffed back into view and told them to cut it out. They did, sheepishly slinking out of frame toward the bowels of the Warehouse, but not before waving goodbye to Myka in the Farnsworth.

"Thanks, guys!" Myka called after them.

"Claudia, you stay here." Claudia looked pathetically at Steve and moped her way to her desk chair, dramatically slumping down like a child in time-out.

Artie huffed and adjusted his glasses. "Do you think it could have been the mask-maker?"

"No, I'm pretty sure he was in the back of the Studio when we got there. I think we would have seen him walking along the path we drove if he had done it."

"So someone followed you there and tried to slow you down on the way back."

"Either slow us down or spook us." Helena was still reading Myka's notepad, but was now lying against the pile of clothes that started as two neatly packed suitcases.

"Speaking of spooking, you should tell them what you had to do to find out who Hector sold his mask to."

Claudia suddenly perked up in the background of Myka's Farnsworth and rolled her chair closer to Artie. "Go on."

Myka threw Helena a dirty look and sighed before telling them that Hector took a cast of her face. She was starting to tell them the information they got in return but Claudia interrupted. "Whoa, dude!" She was staring incredulously into the communicator. "That's messed up."

Myka shook her head, "I know, but it seemed like a small price to pay. Besides, Helena was there, so I was safe."

"Pete is going to have a field day with this."

"Oh, Claudia, please, don't tell Pete."

Claudia rubbed her hands together mischievously. "That'll cost you."

"I'm really sick of that phrase."

Artie interrupted. "You two can sort that out later. So, what did you learn?"

"Whatever it was, I hope you didn't take him at...face value." Claudia devolved into giggles at her own joke. Myka couldn't help herself and cracked a smile, but Artie looked less than amused.

"Hector said the man called himself Claudius, but that he didn't think it was his real name." Artie looked like he was about to protest, so Myka continued hastily, "But he gave us a physical description and Rosewood isn't exactly a big city. I think if we ask the girls, they'll be able to help us out."

"I hope you're right. I don't feel entirely comfortable leaving the fate of this artifact in the hands of a couple of teenagers." Artie jerked his head toward Claudia.

"Hey now, I saw that."

Artie ignored her. "Just be careful and move as swiftly as possible. I know it doesn't seem like it's very harmful yet, but this artifact in the wrong hands could cause unforeseeable damage."

"I know," Myka said. She didn't dare say so out loud, but she disagreed with Artie. She knew it was already harmful. She knew that seeing people from their past, people whose memories already haunted them, could cause more trauma than was visible to the eye. She knew whoever was behind these sightings, whether it was their intention or not, was tearing open old wounds that were starting to heal over. She didn't know the details of the girls' pasts beyond the police reports and what they told her, but she did know they were resilient. She knew they had been working hard at moving forward, at protecting themselves and each other, at surviving. She knew they were used to a degree of psychological warfare, but she doubted any of them had been prepared for something quite like this. She knew she hadn't been. Myka had thought she had gotten closure when she found out the truth about the events surrounding Sam's death. She thought that finally releasing herself from the guilt would allow her memories of him to rest in peace. Seeing his visage in the parking lot hit her out of nowhere, the old scars ripped apart and new cracks formed around them. She couldn't put her finger on why it had hurt so much, but she imagined it had to do with how real the vision was. Some part of her brain filled her soul with recognition and hope at the sight of him, and by the time the logical part of her brain kicked in, the damage had been done, and she could still feel the aftermath of the shattering of that hope inside her. It was the briefest of moments, the blink of an eye, but the pain resounded, even now.

Myka glanced over at Helena, still lost in thought while reading the notepad. She knew she could confide in her: her partner, her friend, her love. But at the same time, despite everything they had talked about, Myka didn't think her pain could even compare to Helena's. Between losing her only child, to spending decades upon decades frozen but aware, Myka knew she was only abreast to the surface of Helena's pain.

"Myka? Are you alright?"

Myka snapped out of her trance. "We'll call you as soon as we know more, Artie."

"In the meantime, we'll be looking for other artifacts that could potentially be behind this, just in case."

They said their goodbyes and Myka switched off the device, tossing it onto the endtable and flopping back on the bed. After a moment of reprieve, she rolled her head to the side to look at Helena, who was still staring at her notebook.

"What are you looking for?"

Helena flipped a tiny page. "You didn't write anything about seeing Sam." Her voice was quiet and gentle.

Myka turned back to stare at the ceiling. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

Myka closed her eyes, as though maybe this, too, would disappear in a blink. Instead, she felt the bed depress and Helena's cool hand take her own. "You can tell me, you know."

Myka crept one eye open. "Tell you what?"

"Anything." Helena laid down and wrapped one arm around Myka's middle.

Myka leaned in until their lips were just a breath apart. "I know," she whispered. She pressed a kiss into Helena's lips. "Not tonight."

She kissed Helena again, untwining their hands and rolling them so she was lying on top of Helena. The look of concern melted off of Helena's face and transformed into an almost predatory grin. "Then what do you want to do tonight?"

Myka sat up on her knees, straddling Helena's hips, and tore her shirt up over her head, leaving only a lacy, black bra, smiling seductively. She leaned back in to kiss Helena again and when she pulled back, Helena gently traced her hands along her face. "I don't care what Hector thinks," she said, her hand traveling from Myka's chin and down her neck. "This face is all mine." She pulled Myka into another deep kiss, and Myka felt her anxieties float away.

* * *

H.G. and Myka sat on the bench outside Rosewood High School for the second morning in a row. Myka was fidgeting with her coffee, looking a little uneasy. "I hope no one notices that we're here again."

H.G. laughed. "Somehow, I highly doubt any of the authorities in this town notice much of anything."

Myka smirked but still looked a little unsettled. Though, if Helena was being honest with herself, Myka had looked unsettled for a while now. She understood why Myka didn't want to talk about seeing Sam - or, at least, could come up with a plethora of reasons why she wouldn't want to talk about it, especially with her - but she still wished she would. She hated having anything unspoken hanging between them. In fact, she preferred as little space between them as humanly possible. As trying and emotional as this trip to Rosewood had been already, H.G. had been rather enjoying having so much alone time with Myka. At the Bed and Breakfast, they were constantly surrounded by people, and were still trying to be as discreet as possible, so as not to raise any question as to whether their relationship would affect their working together. It was nice to be in a place where no one knew them, no one questioned the nature of their relationship, and where they could be together at night without the stress of being overheard, since not a soul had checked in or out of Edgewood Motor Court since the day they arrived.

H.G. was still studying Myka's face when suddenly it lit up with recognition. "There's Spencer," she said, putting up her hand to wave. Spencer's eyes darted around before she crossed the street to where the agents were sitting. The women stood to greet her.

"I don't know where the other girls are," Spencer said, still taking the same defensive stance she had when she met them in the woods.

"That's okay, maybe you can help us," H.G. told her. Spencer looked as though her nerves were wound up tighter than the hair in the small braid that framed her face. Though her eyes were as wild as the rest of her hair, which fell loosely down the back of her coat.

"We spoke with Hector Lime yesterday and he said that someone bought a mask that he made of your friend Alison."

"Did he tell you who it was?" Spencer asked desperately.

"Well he didn't have his real name, but Hector told us it was a man who looked to be in his twenties. He couldn't see his hair because he was wearing a hat and it was dark, but he said he was lean, average height. I know it's not much to go on, but can you think of anyone like that who would want to torment you girls?"

Spencer's face had been scrunched in deep thought while Myka was talking, but after a moment she snapped to attention. "Jason DiLaurentis."

"DiLaurentis? As in-"

"Alison's brother. And...kind of my brother, too, I guess."

Myka's eyebrow shot up at this, but Spencer shook it off. "It's a long story. I thought he was out of town but he could be back. I'll ask Emily if she's seen him around; she lives next door to the DiLaurentis house."

"And please share the description with the other girls; see if you can think of anyone else it could be. We want to be sure we look into all our options."

Spencer nodded and the school bell rang. "I have to go. I'll call you if we think of anything."

"Thanks, Spencer." The agents waved as Spencer powerwalked towards the school and melted into the throng of rushing students.

H.G. turned to Myka. "Why would someone buy a mask of their own sister, especially if they presumed her to be dead?"

Myka shrugged. "Why would anyone want to torture four teenage girls with memories of people from their past? Let's go see what's going on at the DiLaurentis house."

H.G. hesitated. "I'm sure this goes without saying, but I would be remiss if I didn't bring it up. If Mrs. DiLaurentis is home, we can't mention Alison. In fact, we should just ask her where Jason is, because if she thinks there's a chance she could see Alison again, even if it's just a mirage..."

Myka grabbed one of H.G.'s hands in both of her own and met her eyes. "I know," she whispered.

She let one hand move up to brush a stray curl out of her face, but the two walked hand in hand back to the car. On the drive to the DiLaurentis house, H.G. was silent. She was trying to figure out how they could ask Mrs. DiLaurentis where her son was without spooking her. The woman had been through enough, the last thing H.G. wanted was to further traumatize her. She told Myka her plan on the short walk from the car to the doorway. Myka rang the doorbell and H.G. held her breath.

They heard footsteps approach the door, followed by a muffled, "Who is it?"

Myka cleared her throat. "My name is Agent Myka Bering and I'm here with Agent Wells, and we were hoping to talk to your son, Jason." Myka and H.G. waited for a response, but they didn't hear anything. "Mrs. DiLaurentis?"

They heard the door click open and a blonde woman opened the door as far as the chain lock would allow. An ice blue eye peered at them through the small slit. "Is Jason alright? Is he in trouble?"

H.G. shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. We are investigating a man named Hector Lime and we have reason to believe Jason might have talked to him recently. We just want to see what he knows about Hector."

The worry faded from 's eyes. "Oh, well Jason isn't here. He's been out of town for two weeks now."

"Two weeks? You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Mrs. DiLaurentis snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Myka pulled a business card out of her pocket and held it close to the door. "If you do hear from Jason, please call us." Mrs. DiLaurentis stuck her hand out far enough to grab the card, then pulled it back in and stepped away from the door, huffing a goodbye as she shut the door tight.

As they climbed back into the car, Myka pouted, "Well that was a bust."

"Yes, if he was gone for two weeks, he can't be the one behind this."

"Which means he probably wasn't the one who bought the mask."

Myka drove them back towards the school and H.G. dug out their files from the glove compartment. She flipped through pages of names and glossy photos, trying to figure out what their next move should be. She didn't remember the last time an artifact had been this elusive. Usually by the time someone figured out that they possessed something that could do unnatural things, the amount they used it grew exponentially and quickly spiraled out of control. Whoever had this artifact now was patient and calculating. Whatever their end goal was, they were willing to take their time to get there. Her thought stream was interrupted by Myka slamming on the brakes, sending the papers H.G. was holding flying. H.G. opened her mouth to protest the sudden stop when she saw Myka's blanched face. She followed her horrified gaze out of the front windshield and saw that she had stopped inches short of hitting a man, who faced them head-on. His stare was blank, unreadable, and his face was strangely familiar. She had seen pictures of this man. Then it clicked. He looked familiar because _Myka _had shown her pictures of this man. This man was Sam Martino.

H.G. froze. She didn't know what to do. She could see Myka battling with the same problem. She decided she had to be the one to do something, so she quickly climbed out of the car and took a step toward Sam, who was still staring down Myka. "Who are you?" H.G. demanded.

"You both need to leave Rosewood." His eyes were still glued to Myka as he answered H.G.'s question. She was shocked at how real he sounded, how solid he looked. He definitely wasn't a hologram, and he was unlike any hallucination she had ever experienced. If she didn't know any better, she would never doubt the man standing in front of her was a totally normal man. H.G. slid her hand to her hip, resting it gently on her Tesla, angling her body slightly in hopes that he wouldn't notice she was reaching for a weapon and get spooked.

"If you just tell us who you are any why you're doing this, we can be on our way."

H.G. tried to stay vague, knowing that he wasn't going to just offer up any information, but she wanted to keep him talking until she could shock him. She took a slow step towards him, scanning his body for any signs he might attack.

"Leave Rosewood now. Before somebody gets hurt."

"Is that a threat?"

He whipped his head towards her and glared. "Yes," he hissed. He turned on his heel and sprinted, turning the corner when he got to the intersection. H.G. pulled out her Tesla and shot, but the lines of electricity missed him. She started to run after him, but when she turned the corner, she was met with a crowd of students milling around the campus of Rosewood High School. She quickly hid her Tesla back in its holster and frantically skimmed the crowd. There was no sign of anyone bearing Sam's face and she didn't want to start a school-wide panic by racing through a crowd of teenagers, so she turned and ran back to the car. Myka was still staring blankly ahead, and as H.G. got closer, she saw another car driving down the street toward where their car was halted. H.G. motioned at the car to go around, mouthing something about car troubles, before climbing into the passenger seat. "Myka? Myka, sweetie, are you okay?"

H.G. noticed that Myka's foot was still pressing down on the brake so she slid the car into park. "Myka, look at me. Say something."

Myka finally blinked, but continued to look out the front window as though Sam was still standing there. "His eyes. They were wrong."

"What?"

"One of his eyes was ice blue, like Sam's. One was a dark blue, almost grey."

"The masks, they only had one eye cut out!"

Myka nodded her head slowly, not fully out of her trance. H.G. rested her hand on Myka's arm. "Why don't you let me drive?"

Myka turned her head and met H.G.'s eyes. The color slowly came back to her face and she cracked a small smile. "I'm in shock, I'm not suicidal."

H.G. laughed, partly from the joke and partly from relief. There was little in the world that shook H.G. up as much as Myka looking so scared and vulnerable. Myka put the car in drive and started down the street again.

"Maybe we should go to the Brew," H.G. suggested. "Get some caffeine and look at our photos again, see if the eyes match anyone in our file."

"Good idea, and then we can have the girls meet us there after school and run the new information by them."

* * *

Claudia was on a ladder in the Warehouse, taking inventory on a high shelf, when she heard Pete's voice wail from a few aisles away. "Claaaudiiiiaaaa!" The sound was getting closer, so she braced herself and looked down to see if she could spot him. She heard him before she saw him, because he slid into the corner of a shelf as he took the sharp turn. He scrambled to get himself upright and ran down the aisle, shouting once more, "Gargoyle!"

Claudia rolled her eyes. "Again?" She swiftly removed her goo gun from her holster and waited for the stone creature to turn the corner after Pete. She made the mistake of looking too low, because next thing she knew, a grey wing knocked her off balance. She started to fall, but grabbed onto the ladder with one hand, swinging herself up and shooting the goo gun all in one motion. The gargoyle froze in midair and fell to the ground. Pete and Claudia both threw their arms up to cover their faces as the gargoyle shattered and pieces of stone flew in every direction. When the cloud of grey dust settled, Pete was standing on the ground, looking a bit like a gargoyle himself. Claudia climbed down the ladder to survey the mess. "Artie's gonna kill you."

"What Artie doesn't know won't hurt him...or me." Pete started brushing himself off, coughing out puffs of powder as he did.

"What did you do to that poor gargoyle anyway?"

"_Poor_ gargoyle?! It tried to kill me! Twice!"

"Gargoyles don't tend to come to life and attack just anyone." Claudia put her hand on her hip and jutted it out, waiting for his explanation.

"I MAY have called it ugly and said it was probably its own reflection that turned it into stone."

"Pete, how many times have you been told not to provoke the artifacts."

"No one told me gargoyles were so sensitive!"

Claudia laughed and helped Pete brush off his shoulders. "What were you doing down here anyway?"

"I was looking for Harriet Tubman's thimble." Claudia's heart raced at the mention of the artifact that had caused them so much trouble in the past.

"Why?"

"I wanted to make sure it was still down here, just in case it wasn't the mask of Lincoln-oo."

"_L'Inconnue."_

"That's what I said!"

"Good thinking, lughead. But you know you could have just checked to see if it was still logged in."

"We've been burned by that before."

"Good point. Let's go check it out. Try not to piss anything off on the way."

Pete harrumphed and followed Claudia to the aisle where Harriet Tubman's thimble was shelved. When they got there, they both sighed in relief to see the little silver trinket resting right where it belonged.

"It looks so unassuming," Claudia mused.

"Yeah, who'da thunk this thing could cause so much chaos." Pete picked up the thimble and tossed it from one hand to the other.

"Pete, be careful."

"What, we know how it works, it can't hurt us." He slipped it onto his thumb and suddenly, instead of Pete, it was Artie's figure standing in front of her.

"I'm Artie, get to work, all work no play, blah blah blah!"

Claudia stifled a giggle. "Pete cut it out."

"No laughter, Claudia! I will not stand for it!" He put his finger up in the air and waggled it as though he were scolding her.

Claudia spotted something behind Pete and her eyes grew wide. She shook her head sharply, trying to signal to Pete to stop, but he kept doing his best imitation of Artie, while looking like Artie. When he caught the look on Claudia's face, he froze.

"What?"

A voice came from behind him. "Agent Lattimer."

Pete winced and took off the thimble, re-appearing as himself. He turned around sheepishly to see the real Artie standing there.

"I-I was just, you know, making sure the thimble was still here and not...uh.. in Rosewood." Artie stood perfectly still, his cool glare never leaving Pete's face as he stammered his excuses.

"And you thought you should also test it out, to make sure it wasn't an imposter?"

"Uh...yeah! Right! Exactly!"

"Mmhm."

Pete turned to Claudia and laughed nervously. "See, the big guy gets it! All in good fun!"

"Claudia, Pete will be taking over inventory for you now. I need you to confirm an alibi of someone on Myka and H.G.'s suspect list."

"Right-o." She pointed up the ladder. "Everything you need is still up on the shelf."

"Thanks," Pete said, flatly.

Artie looked around, just noticing he was standing amongst dust and rubble. "What happened here?"

Claudia leapt forward and took Artie by the arm, leading him back towards the office. "Oh nothing to worry about. Let's get to researchin' shall we?" She continued to chatter idly to keep him from turning back around and asking more questions about the gargoyle remains.

Once back in the office, Claudia got into position at her computer. "Hit me!"

"I need you to confirm that Jason DiLaurentis was in fact not in Rosewood in the past two weeks or so."

"Easy peasy." Claudia ran algorithms and searched bank records as easily as though they weren't highly confidential and illegal actions. She felt the rush she always did when she was helping with a case; this was her sport, and she was an Olympian. She scanned the results. "Yup, looks like he's been in New York, Philadelphia, and somewhere called Cape May over the past few weeks. He's on an ATM security camera in Philly clocked pretty close to when Myka called us about seeing Sam, so it's safe to say he's not the one tormenting our gals."

Artie took off his glasses and wiped them. "I never know if crossing a suspect off is good news or bad news," he muttered, "especially when you don't have another."

"Myka and H.G. are the best in the biz, they'll figure it out."

"You're right. I just hope they do it soon, before too much damage is done."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Can we talk?" Emily kept her voice low so only Paige could hear her, but Paige made it seem as though she didn't. She kept rifling through her locker, ignoring the brunette at her elbow. "Paige?"

"Sure, _now_ you want to talk. Well I don't want to. Not now." Paige turned to face Emily. "Not yet."

Emily reached out and touched Paige's arm. "Please."

Paige stepped out of her grip and slammed her locker. "I'm going to be late."

Emily watch Paige disappear down the hallway and sighed, her heart feeling like it was treading water, aching and tired. The night before had been a disaster. When she had gotten a glass of water from Hanna's kitchen, she had realized her outburst was unwarranted. Of course she knew they had to consider the fact that, given the events of the past few days, the person they thought was Alison wasn't really her. She had considered it a thousand times since it happened. But she wanted so badly for it to be true, for Alison to really be alive, that she couldn't bear to hear it out loud. She had calmed down and headed back towards Hanna's bedroom when she heard feet clamoring down the stairs. Paige had pushed past her with a tearstained face and ran outside. Emily had tried to call after her, to no avail. Confused, she went up to Hanna's bedroom to find her three friends looking nervously at her.

"What just happened?" she asked. Hanna, Spencer, and Aria all started talking at once. Eventually she got them to calm down and talk one at a time, and they told her about Paige's shock at learning that they had seen Alison, and how she hadn't given them a chance to give her reasons why Emily might have kept it from her. She had gotten up and stormed out without saying a word. Paige hadn't answered any of Emily's calls or texts for the rest of the night, and Emily ended up staying with Hanna, not having the energy to go home, and not wanting to be alone.

She was lying in the bed next to Hanna, staring up at the ceiling, her mind and her heart going far too fast to think about sleeping, when she felt her friend roll over to face her. Hanna's eyes didn't open, but she muttered, "Em, go to sleep. You're thinking too loud and it's keeping me up."

Emily smiled for the first time all day. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Hanna's arm reached out and draped lazily over her body. Emily rested her arm over Hanna's and closed her eyes, hoping things would look better in the morning.

Now, as she stood in the hallway, still feeling the sting of Paige's brush-off, things weren't looking much better at all. She knew Paige had every right to be mad at her for keeping this from her; they had promised each other no more secrets, but they had both broken that promise. She didn't know what she felt and she didn't know what to do; all she knew is that she hated not talking to Paige, not knowing how she was feeling, not being given the chance to fix things. Emily pulled out her cell phone and started dialing. If she was going to fix things, she was going to need some help.

"Agent Bering? Right, Myka, sorry. It's Emily. Can we meet again? We need to get to the bottom of this, I want to help in any way I can. Great, thanks. See you then."

She put her phone back in her bag and headed to her next class, the bell ringing just as she stepped through the door.

* * *

Spencer looked at Emily with fierce intensity when she snuck into the classroom and slid into the empty seat next to her.

"Where were you?"

"I was trying to get Paige to talk to me."

"No luck?"

Emily shook her head. Spencer sat up straight and tapped her pencil on her desk. She had been running through her potential suspects in her head all morning. She had been so sure it was Jason when Myka and H.G. were giving the description, but now she wasn't as sure. All she knew is that she couldn't get the image of Ian out of her head and she wanted whatever was happening to end. She was going over everything her friends and the agents had said to her over the past few days, and was so deep in thought that she didn't even hear the bell ring. It wasn't until Emily said her name that she even realized class was over.

"Spencer, are you coming to English or are you sitting through another history class?"

Spencer felt the world slowly come back into focus and stood up, swiftly scooping up her bag in the process. Emily seemed lost in thought, too, as they walked down the hall to Mr. Fitz's classroom. Just before they got to the room, Spencer pulled Emily over to the side of the hallway. She lowered her voice. "Em, I'm sorry I put Paige on the suspect list."

Emily bristled, but didn't interrupt.

"When I saw how upset she was last night, I knew she couldn't be involved. I'm sorry I didn't trust her..."

"I get why you didn't trust her, Spencer. It's hard to trust anyone anymore. But I trust her, and you should trust me."

Spencer looked down at her boots. "I know."

Emily put her hand on Spencer's arm. "We'll only get through this if we stick together and trust each other."

Spencer locked eyes with Emily and nodded. "You're right."

"Come here," Emily said and pulled Spencer into a hug. "We'll be alright," she whispered into her ear. Spencer nodded into Emily's shoulder. She felt the threat of tears burn her eyes and a lump form in her throat. She wanted to believe Emily, she did. But she wasn't sure how long she could live like this. One insane thing after another. She didn't know what she did to deserve this, and as selfish as it seemed, she was glad she wasn't going through it alone. She followed Emily into the classroom and they joined Hanna and Aria in their seats in the back of the class. When they were all sitting Emily leaned in.

"I'm meeting the agents after school today if any of you want to join me. I think we need to put as many heads together as we can if we're going to figure out who's behind this."

Spencer nodded. "I actually talked to them briefly this morning, they talked to Hector Lime and have a lead."

Her friends looked surprised. She probably should have told them sooner, but at least she was telling them now. She started to tell them about the description the agents gave her when all their phones went off at once. Four sets of eyes grew wide at the sound of the unison vibrations. They pulled out their phones and all looked to Spencer, who read hers out loud. "Lots of faces, old and new. Be mindful of which ones you trust. - A"

"Does that mean the person behind this is someone we know?" Hanna asked.

"Or someone we just met," Aria added.

Spencer huffed. "I have no idea what it means, but even if I did, why would we trust A?"

The four girls stared at their identical messages as though they would magically transform into something less cryptic when Mr. Fitz strolled in with the sound of the bell. "Hello, class. Let's get right to it. Please open Hamlet to Act III, Scene 3, where we left off."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Myka and Helena were going through every young man in their files for means and motive when Spencer, Emily, Hanna, and Aria walked into the coffee shop. The four girls greeted the agents and pulled up cushioned chairs around the small table. Myka quickly shuffled all the photos and papers into a pile and slid them into her bag. There was no need to dredge up more memories for these girls.

"Thanks for meeting us," Emily said softly.

"It worked out well, we had a few more questions for you all. Did Spencer share what we talked about this morning?"

Hanna nodded. "She told us on the walk over. The creep behind this is a dude. Which rules out our more frequent tormentors." Hanna punctuated her statement with an exasperated sigh.

Helena looked carefully at each of the girls. "In the interest of full disclosure, we should mention that we did have another...encounter."

The girls leaned in, curious. Helena looked at Myka, who nodded for her to continue. Myka knew this wasn't going to be easy for the girls to hear, and thought Helena's accent might be the most soothing way for the news to be delivered.

"We saw an old partner of Myka's. And he...he spoke to us."

Emily looked crestfallen. Myka's heart ached for her, for all of them. She couldn't help but give them a shred of hope to cling to. "That doesn't necessarily mean Alison wasn't really Alison."

"But it means it might not have been," Spencer said assertively.

Helena nodded. "It's a possibility."

"We did notice a flaw in the mask. It creates a near-perfect replica of the person it's intending to impersonate, with the exception of the eyes."

Helena continued where Myka left off, "One eye will match the person being impersonated, but one will still be the original color of the person wearing the mask."

Emily's eyes scrunched up in concentration. "I'm pretty sure both of Allison's eyes were the right color."

Hanna put her hand on Emily's shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"I...I think so."

"If it was really her, why hasn't she come to see us since?" Spencer asked, wincing as though she recognized the harshness in her tone as soon as she asked. "I just don't think we can rule anything out yet," she added sympathetically.

Emily looked down but nodded in understanding.

Myka shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She and Helena had thought of a plan, but she wasn't sure how it would sit with the girls. She wasn't sure how it would sit with Artie, either, so they hadn't run it by him yet. She knew he would rather them wait it out, get all the clues, narrow down the suspects, and find the artifact. Bag, snag, and tag. But the rush of emotions she felt when she saw Sam again, when she heard his voice, was so overwhelming. And she had been in this game for years. This job had dragged her emotions through the ringer, from opening old wounds to creating new ones. Yet seeing Sam still packed a punch she couldn't even articulate to the one person who she talked to about everything. She could tell Helena knew she was hurting, and she was grateful that she didn't push the conversation, because Myka wasn't even sure how she could explain how she felt. She knew she'd get through it, she always did. She just wasn't sure if these girls would. She wanted to spare them as much of this pain as she could.

"We had an idea we wanted to run by you ladies." When Myka saw she had the girls' attention, she looked to Helena. They could still back out. This time it was Helena that gave Myka the encouraging nod. "We could narrow down our suspect list one by one and take that route to try to figure out who is behind all of this. Or, we could try to...draw them out and get them that way."

Helena added, "Catch them in the act, so to speak."

"How exactly do you propose to do that?" Spencer asked.

"Well," Myka answered, "We've noticed that this person tends to appear to you girls when you're alone. So, we were thinking of setting up a situation that might be ideal for him to make his move, and be ready for him."

One of Hanna's eyebrows shot up. "You want to use us as bait?"

Myka swallowed. "I guess, technically yes..."

"But we would be right there, you wouldn't be in any danger," Helena rushed to finish Myka's sentence. "Besides, it does seem as though whoever is behind this is out to spook you more than anything."

Aria spoke up for the first time since they sat down. "True, if he wanted to kill us, he could have done it by now."

"Thanks, Aria. Very comforting," Hanna said, rolling her eyes.

"We want you all to think about it, talk about it, decide together. If you don't want to do this, you just have to let us know, we can go the other route."

"No matter what you decide, we will find who's behind this and we will stop him."

Helena stood up, and Myka followed suit. "You have our number, call us when you've made your decision either way."

Helena paused and looked as though she was going to add something, but thought better of it and just gave the girls a small wave.

Myka waited until her and Helena pulled away from the curb and headed back toward the Motorcourt before speaking. "What do you think they'll choose?"

"I honestly don't know. I hope they'd want to end this sooner rather than later."

"I'm just afraid they'll be fed up with being in danger, and won't want to put themselves directly in the line of fire." 

"Well, we would be there. We told them we wouldn't let anything happen to them."

"But they have no reason to trust us, other than the fact that we haven't lied to them yet."

"They're tough girls. They don't seem like the type to be afraid to put themselves on the line if it means getting this over with."

Myka nodded. "You're right."

"As usual." Myka glanced over to see Helena smirking at her.

"Don't let it get to your head." Myka laughed. It felt good to laugh. Even if it didn't completely alleviate the heavy feeling in her chest, it certainly made it more bearable.

When their giggles died down, the car fell silent. "Myka, are you sure you're alright?"

"I will be, since you're here." Myka felt so grateful to have Helena beside her. She knew Pete would have been nothing but supportive, and Claudia and Steve would have been quick to make her smile, but Helena was who she really needed right now. Though even having Helena by her side to help ease the pain of the scars being re-opened by this masked man didn't quell the rage Myka felt. It was one thing to go after grown women, but the girls they just left behind were just children. It was easy to forget they were so young; they all carried themselves with a maturity many of their peers hadn't mastered. And the pain behind their eyes was deeper than anyone their age should have to bear. But they were just kids. Teenagers who had already been through so much. It was this rage that fueled Myka, and made her more determined than ever to find this artifact and stop it from causing any more damage. She knew the most dangerous weapons weren't necessarily the ones that caused big explosions, that the wounds that took the longest to heal couldn't be seen on the surface. She knew the damage something like this mask could do, and she wanted to stop it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Emily, Hanna, and Aria all looked to Spencer as soon as the agents were out of sight.

"Well?" Aria asked. "What do we do?"

Spencer shrugged. "Don't look at me, it should probably be up to Emily, since she would be the bait."

"What?" Aria and Hanna exclaimed in unison. Emily's emotions were so frayed, she almost wanted to reach up and smack the know-it-all look off Spencer's face. But she knew Spencer was right.

"It makes sense. He came after me the most. Twice as Nate, and once as Maya, even though, unfortunately, Paige got the brunt of that one." Emily felt her voice catch at the mention of Paige's name. She knew Paige would hate this plan, but she also knew that if she had any hope of salvaging their relationship, this mask business had to end. She couldn't keep having memories of her past, of their past, popping up at random, cracking the foundation they had spent so long building. Emily knew that she and Paige worked best if they focused on the present. Their relationship was a delicate balance; looking too far backwards or forward would send everything crumbling to the ground. She didn't want to lose Paige, not again. So she was willing to do anything to stop this torment.

"I'll do it."

Hanna and Aria started to protest but Spencer cut them off. "You heard Myka and H.G., they'll be there the whole time. This is the best chance we have of ending this."

"Spencer's right," Emily added. "If we want this to be over, we can't just sit back and wait for the pieces to fall into place. We have to take matters into our own hands."

"But what about the text A sent us?" Aria asked. "Do we even know if we can trust them?"

Emily looked incredulous. "They've been nothing but helpful and supportive since the moment they got here. What possible motive would they have for trying to hurt us?"

"Besides, their story checks out," Spencer added. "Well, Myka's anyway. I looked her up online and she's listed as a secret service agent, and there's a news story about an ex-partner who was killed while they were on duty together."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Aria asked.

"I didn't think anyone else cared. You all seemed so quick to tell them all our secrets."

"That's a little harsh, Spence," Emily said.

"You told them about seeing Alison before you even told your own girlfriend."

"That's different and you know it." Emily's voice was sharper, exhaustion and frustration filling her eyes up with tears.

Hanna stood up. "Alright, enough. Obviously we need to end this. Look what it's doing to us. It's just what A wanted, what A always wants. To pit us against each other." She put her hand on Emily's shoulder. "Are you sure you don't mind being bait?"

Emily nodded. "I'm sure."

"Alright. Then let's put this worm on a hook."

Aria made a face. "Gross."

Hanna scoffed. "You know what I mean." She looked from Emily to Spencer. "You two okay? You're not going to tear out each other's eyeballs or anything?"

The two girls exchanged apologetic looks. "We're okay," Emily said.

"We're okay," Spencer agreed. The rest of the girls stood up and Spencer linked her arm around Emily's back. "You should all come over, we can call the agents from my house."

Emily looped her arm around Spencer and gave her a light squeeze. "Sounds perfect."

All four girls strode out of the coffee shop, and Emily felt something she hadn't felt since she saw Nate's face last Saturday morning: hope.

* * *

"Paige, sweetie, your father and I are going out, do you want me to make you something for dinner before we leave?"

Paige didn't move from her spot at the edge of her bed. "I'm not hungry. Have fun," she called downstairs half-heartedly.

She heard the front door open and close, heard her parents' car drive away. She let the silence weigh down on her. She listened through the quiet for a few minutes before she realized that she knew what she was listening for. She was listening for the sound of her phone. She was waiting to hear from Emily.

She flopped backwards on her bed. She knew she was foolish to wait. Emily had tried to talk to her in school earlier, but she hadn't been ready. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything. Around the fact that Alison might still be alive. Around why Emily wouldn't have told her. She felt as though a large weight was lying on her chest, making it hard to take full breaths. It felt like she was underwater and she didn't know how to get the air she needed. At least, not without Emily by her side.

Paige sat up, resolute, and picked up her phone. As soon as she did, it started ringing. She smiled when she saw Emily's face pop up on her screen. She thought of a thousand different things she wanted to say to her girlfriend, but when she answered, she could only muster up a meek, "Hey."

"Paige, hi. Listen I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now-"

"No, I do, actually, I was just about to call you."

Emily sounded surprised at this. "Really?"

Paige's heart fluttered at the excitement in Emily's voice. "Really."

Then Emily's voice fell. "Well you might be upset with me all over again when I tell you why I called."

The fluttering in Paige's chest changed to racing. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's...wrong, necessarily. We - the agents, Spencer, Hanna, Aria, and I - we decided we should take a shortcut to finding out who is behind everything that has been going on over the past few days."

"A shortcut? I don't like the sound of that."

"The agents will be with me the whole time," Emily rushed to explain.

Paige cut her off. "YOU? What do you mean they'll be with _you_?" Paige realized she had stood up and was pacing around her room.

"It's just, he's appeared to me most, it makes the most sense-"

"He who? Em, what are you talking about?"

"Can you come over to Spencer's? We'll explain everything. You're part of this, too. We thought you should be there."

"I'll be right over." Paige grabbed her bag and ran out the door, hopped on her bike, and pedaled faster than she had ever pedaled before. She made sure not to look at anything but the road directly ahead of her all the way from her house to the Hastings' house.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

H.G. hung up the phone and turned to Myka. "I think they're ready."

"Did they sound scared?"

"You know, they really didn't. They sounded more determined than anything."

Myka smiled. "They've got a lot of spunk, I'll give them that." She paused for a moment, her smile fading. "Do you think they'll be okay, after all this? It seems like this artifact isn't the only thing that has been causing them problems over the past few years. I have a feeling their troubles won't leave town when we do."

"I think they'll be just fine. They're strong, Myka." H.G. pulled Myka closer to where she was sitting at the edge of the bed. "Like you."

Myka leaned in and kissed H.G. "I'm stronger with you."

"They have each other." H.G. kissed Myka back. After a minute. H.G. held Myka back. "Are _you_ ready?"

"What do you mean?"

"We don't know how this mask works. Even if we catch him in the act of appearing to Emily, he could still take on Sam's face again. I can't imagine how hard this has been on you, seeing his face again."

Myka broke H.G.'s gaze. "It's not him, it's just his face."

H.G. trailed her hands down Myka's arms and took her hands, giving them a squeeze. "It still can't be easy."

Myka met H.G.'s eyes again and reached one hand up, tucking a strand of H.G.'s hair behind her ear. "What I feel is nothing compared to the pain you've felt, Helena."

H.G. was suddenly full of realization, understanding, heartache. "Is that why you haven't talked to me about any of this? About how seeing Sam makes you feel? Because you've been comparing our pain?"

A tear fell down Myka's cheek and landed on H.G.'s hand. The heat of it sent a jolt of pain to H.G.'s heart. Myka's voice was a whisper. "I've been so afraid he'd show up as Christina."

H.G. let out a laugh and Myka looked surprised and confused, but smiled at the sound of it. H.G. cupped Myka's face in her hands, her heart overflowing. "Amidst all your pain, you were worried about mine?"

H.G. pulled Myka in for another kiss. "This is one of the million reasons I love you. Why I will always love you." She slid over on the bed and sat against the headboard, motioning for Myka to sit beside her. When she did, H.G. put one arm around her, letting Myka's head rest on her shoulder. "Your pain is your own," she whispered, kissing the top of Myka's head. "You don't have to be strong for me."

* * *

Myka awoke in a panic, afraid that she and Helena were late to meet the girls, because she didn't remember falling asleep. When she realized it was her phone alarm that woke her, she reached over to silence it, glad to see they still had plenty of time to get to the woods where they would be watching Emily on her morning run from a distance. She kissed a sleeping Helena's hand before untangling herself from the arm that held her all night. When she got to the bathroom, she saw her eyes were red, because last night she had let herself cry for the first time in as long as she could remember. She had cried into Helena's shoulder, just long enough to feel the old wounds that this trip to Rosewood had reopened start to heal once more. When she lost Sam the first time, she thought she was broken forever. When she had to relive it a few years back, but then came to realize his death wasn't her fault, she started to feel like maybe someday she could be whole again. Last night, in Helena's arms, she knew she would be.

And now, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure these girls had a fighting chance to be whole again someday, too.

She turned on the shower, waited a moment for it to start to warm up, and jumped in. She turned her head into the stream of water and let it wash the stale tears from her face. She started to feel refreshed, almost lighter, like she was washing away a layer of herself she no longer needed. She heard the bathroom door open and saw a familiar silhouette through the glass panels of the shower, followed by a familiar voice. "Mind if I join you?"

* * *

When Myka and H.G. got to the picnic table in the woods where they had first met the girls, Spencer was already waiting there, perched on one of the benches with the biggest cup of coffee H.G. had ever seen. As soon as they approached the table and greeted Spencer, Paige and Hanna made their way toward them. "Good morning, girls. Have you talked to Emily?"

"We just left her, she's ready. She said she'll leave the same time she usually does. During the week she cuts through the woods here in the morning, since there are less people." Paige looked nervous, but H.G. could tell she was putting on a brave face.

"More like no people. Even in the morning, this place gives me the creeps." Hanna shivered and walked to sit next to Spencer on the bench. "Think you can spare a drop of your precious coffee?"

Spencer squinted menacingly at Hanna but handed her the coffee, her eyes never leaving the cup until it was back in her hands. Once she had secured her beverage, she turned to the agents. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Not sure, no," H.G. said frankly. "But it's the best chance we have. If it doesn't work, we can go back to ruling out suspects one by one."

Myka's eyes swept the small group they had accumulated. "Where's Aria?"

"I dropped her off at home on the way here," Spencer said. "She had to drive her brother to school."

Myka nodded. "And what time does Emily usually leave for her run?" For this question, she turned to Paige.

Paige looked at her watch. "She should be running through here in the next ten minutes."

"Alright, ladies. Why don't you make yourself scarce. We'll hide out along the trail, but you should all be back further in the woods. For all we know, he could already be out here somewhere; the last thing we want is to scare him off." H.G. motioned deeper into the woods and the girls reluctantly headed in that direction.

Paige hesitated at the edge of the clearing, looking pleadingly back at the agents. "Make sure she doesn't get hurt, okay?"

"We promise. Keeping Emily safe is our top priority," H.G. assured her. Paige nodded and disappeared into the trees with Hanna and Spencer.

H.G. and Myka headed toward the path, and found the spot Emily had mentioned the night before on the phone. "This looks like the place," Myka said.

H.G. nodded. "You stay here, I'll go across the path and up a little bit, so we're spread out."

"Sounds good."

H.G. gave Myka a wink as she ran across the path and into the trees on the other side. She positioned herself in the direction Emily would be coming, so she had a clear view of the path, but someone on the path wouldn't necessarily have a clear view of her, no matter which direction they came from. She checked her back pocket to make sure she had a bag ready in case she got her hands on the artifact first, then got her Tesla out of its holster and into position. She would only be able to use it if the masked man, in whichever form he took today, stayed far enough away from Emily that she wasn't at risk of hitting the teenager as well. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through her veins as she tuned out the sound of her racing heart and focused only on the sounds of the woods around her, the wind whistling through the branches, the leaves rustling on the ground. She settled into position and slowed her own breathing down. She really hoped this plan worked.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_I really hope this plan works,_ Emily thought as she put her hair into a ponytail in the hallway mirror. Her pulse was already up and she hadn't even started her run yet. She knew it was a good plan, but it was dependent on a lot of things. It was dependent on the assumption that whoever was behind this mask still wanted to spook her, or hurt her, or whatever he was after. It was dependent on whether this person really knew her routines or if it was just a coincidence she ran into him on her morning runs twice. It was dependent on whether they were right in guessing that, if he did know her routines, he would want to appear to her right after she entered the woods, where there was the lowest possibility of witnesses. Not that people being around stopped him the second time she saw him. A chill ran down Emily's spine at the memory of Nate's stare.

She locked eyes with herself in the mirror. _You can do this,_ she told herself. _You have to._

Anything to make this nightmare end.

Emily went out on the porch and started to stretch. The wind was crisp, not yet warmed by the sun that was casting an orange glow on her street. She got through about half of her stretches before she got too antsy to stay still any longer. She looked around to make sure the street was still empty, and when it was, she took off on her usual Wednesday morning route.

She was breathing more heavily than usual by the time she got to the edge of the woods, and she knew it wasn't from the workout. She tried to clear her mind of all the things that could go wrong with this plan and focused on the task at hand. She jogged a few feet into the woods before slowing to a stop. She leaned down and untied her shoe, tying it again as though it hadn't been tight enough. Her heart was beating in her ears as she waited, afraid to look up before she heard anything, while also being afraid to hear something. She moved on to the other shoe and did the same thing, and just she finished tightening the knot, she heard someone whisper her name, as though it were being carried by the wind.

When she stood up, her blood ran cold as ice. Standing in front of her, just a few feet away, was Maya. She heard her name again.

"Emily."

Emily was frozen to the spot. Her mind was spinning, her heart racing; she felt lightheaded. "Maya," she whispered back.

Without realizing it, Emily took a step forward. She took in the sight before her, afraid to blink lest it disappear. Maya stepped forward too, and they were standing so close, the cloud puffs their breath made in the cold morning air intermingled. Emily drank in every detail, the perfect curls in her hair, her smooth, flawless skin. She reached out and touched the side of Maya's face, gently, as though she might break. Then she met her eyes. One the warm brown she knew so well; one a deep, steely blue. Emily traced her hand down Maya's face, and felt the unnatural ridge along her jaw bone. She slid her fingers underneath and pulled, as though she were pulling off a mask, even though she couldn't see one.

What happened next was a blur. She felt the mask come off in her hand, she heard Maya cry out and throw her arm up to protect her face, but her voice became suddenly slightly deeper and her figure changed almost instantly into a man's body. She saw Myka come running out of the trees to her right, and by the time she looked back, the man had run off into the woods on her left. H.G. appeared on the path up ahead and then disappeared back into the trees after the man. Emily felt Myka pry the mask out of her hand and open a silver bag. She thought she heard Myka tell her to cover her eyes, but Myka shielded her from the bright flash that came out of the bag when she dropped the mask in.

It wasn't until she felt Myka's hand on her shoulder that Emily started coming back to her senses. Her eyes slid back into focus and she saw Myka's concerned expression, and this time she heard what she assumed based on Myka's tone was a repeated question. "Emily? Emily, are you okay?"

"Yes, yeah I'm okay. I'm okay." As she said it, she realized it was true. She took in a deep breath of fresh air and exhaled slowly. She was okay. She did it.

All of a sudden she heard a rustle in the trees and she felt her whole body tense up. Myka must have seen the panic in her eyes, because she gave her shoulder a squeeze. "It's okay, it's probably just your friends."

Emily followed Myka's gaze into the trees where she had appeared from moments before, and sure enough, Hanna, Spencer, and Paige came running out. As soon as they saw Myka and Emily, the questions began.

"Are you okay?"

"Did you get him?"

"Where's H.G.?"

"What happened?"

"Is that the mask?"

"Is it over?"

Myka held up her hands at the quickly approaching girls and their rapid-fire questions. "Ladies." All three girls stopped in their tracks and looked at her expectantly. "Emily is fine, but she might be a little shaken up. She did wonderfully, though, and we now have the mask." Three sets of shoulders relaxed a little in relief. "H.G. ran off after the man who was wearing them. If you girls are okay here, I'm going to go see if she needs backup."

"We're fine," Spencer insisted.

Myka turned to Emily for an answer, and Emily mustered a nod. With that, Myka took off in the direction H.G. had run off in.

Emily was watching Myka disappear into the woods when she felt two sets of arms clamp tightly around her. She laughed and the arms loosened their grip. "We're glad you didn't get your face eaten off." Hanna said, resting her head on Emily's shoulder.

Spencer threw Hanna one of her famous pointed looks. "We're just glad you're okay."

When Emily turned her head to where Paige was standing a few paces away, Hanna and Spencer let go of her and stood back, both of them smirking. Emily headed toward her and Paige quickly walked to meet her. The two girls crashed into each others' arms and Emily had never felt so complete in her life. Paige was holding her like she would never let go, and Emily hoped she never would. Emily leaned back out of the hug just enough to kiss her, deeply and passionately. She put her head back on Paige's shoulder and squeezed her tightly. "I love you," she whispered, not fully trusting her voice.

She felt a whispered response. "I love you, too."

Hanna started to make a quippy remark about her and Paige, when Myka and H.G. reemerged from the side of the path. H.G. shook her head at the four sets of questioning eyes. "He was too quick, he got away. And he threw up a black hood as soon as he set off, so I didn't get a look at him," she said, her voice apologetic.

Myka piped in with a bit more of a cheerful voice, "But, it's definitely a him, and we definitely have the mask." She held up the silver bag in her hand. "So, whatever he's up to, he will no longer be able to hide behind the faces of the dead."

"Great, back to our regularly scheduled murder mystery."

"What Hanna is _trying _to say," Emily chimed in, "is thank you." She looked at the agents with sincerity. "We wouldn't have gotten through this one without you."

Paige, holding tight to Emily's hand, nodded in agreement.

Spencer stepped forward and extended a hand to the agents. "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time."

H.G. laughed at Spencer's outstretched hand and pulled her in for a hug instead. The women and the girls all exchanged hugs before walking together past the clearing and deeper into the woods where their cars were parked.

"You girls have our number if there's ever anything else we can help you with," Myka said before getting into her car.

Emily nodded. "We'll call you if we need you."

"No offense, but I'm hoping we never need your help again."

H.G. laughed at Hanna. "None taken."

The agents started toward their car, and Emily got into the passenger seat of Paige's car. As soon as Paige got in and closed the door behind her, Emily pulled her in for another kiss. Paige seemed surprised at first, but soon returned the kiss with equal fervor. When Emily pulled back, she kept her hands gently on either side of Paige's face and met her eyes.

"I'm sorry," they both said in unison. Paige's head dipped with a smile on her face and Emily laughed.

Emily ran one hand down the side of Paige's face. "You're always getting tangled up in my crazy life," she said sadly.

Paige lifted her head to meet Emily's eyes again, her expression serious, though still bearing traces of a smile. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Emily kissed her again. "Let's ditch school," she said between kisses. Paige hummed into a kiss in response. Emily laughed and pulled back. "I'm serious, let's spend the day at my house, my mom won't be home. It will just be me," she gave Paige a quick peck, "and you," another kiss, "and a hell of a week to put behind us. Let me make it up to you."

Paige smiled, "You don't have to ask me twice." She sat up and started the car, smiling as though she'd never known sadness. Emily knew Paige had felt sadness, though, and knew she had sometimes been the cause of it. She would just have to be the cause of some pleasure to try to even the score. Emily's smile grew at the thought of spending the day alone in her room with Paige. She took Paige's hand in hers after Paige shifted the car into drive.

After they drove down the path out of the woods a little, the agents pulled their car out in front of them. Emily waved goodbye, and as she watched Myka and H.G. drive away, she had to admit, it was very bittersweet watching them go.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

After Artie finished giving them a micro-lecture on how dangerous their plan was, and how irresponsible it was using a teenager as live bait, he eventually got around to congratulating Myka and Helena on a job well done. Myka had held up the mask to the Farnsworth to show Artie, and they both mused over how much it bore a resemblance to the original _L'Inconnue de la Seine_, despite actually being a mask of Alison DiLaurentis. It wasn't the features or even the expression, really. It was something about the essence of it that felt the same.

Pete appeared over Artie's shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt this nerd-fest, but when are you guys coming home? No one has gotten me breakfast in almost a week."

"We'll be on the next flight home."

Claudia, who sat at her desk and was just visible over Artie's other shoulder, squinted at her screen and called out dramatically, "Oh no! It looks like there isn't a flight out until tomorrow morning! Looks like you'll have to spend one more night in Rosewood. Alone. Together."

Pete leaned in over her shoulder. "What are you talking about, there's a fl-OOF." Pete doubled over as Claudia kneed him in the gut. "Oh right, I see," he squeaked. "No flights 'til tomorrow. So sorry." He groaned and stumbled into a nearby chair.

"Tickets are booked, 10am flight. Deets will be sent to your phone post-haste," Claudia said as she started typing away again.

Artie threw Claudia a suspicious glance but didn't question it. "See you ladies tomorrow, then."

"Thank you, Claudia. See you all tomorrow." Myka gave them a smile and a wave, hoping Artie didn't notice her grin grow wider as Claudia snuck her a wink and a salute behind his back.


	25. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

He didn't stop running until he was sure no one was following him anymore. He had zig-zagged through the woods so much, even he almost lost his way. As soon as he didn't hear footsteps trailing his, he slowed down to a jog, but didn't slow down further until he reached his apartment. He slammed the door behind him and ripped off his hoodie with a frustrated scream. Those secret service agents almost ruined everything.

He was barely in the door a full minute before his phone rang. Somehow she always knew. He picked up the phone, but didn't bother uttering a greeting.

"You let them get the mask."

His voice came out as a growl. "I didn't _let_ them do anything."

"You failed."

"I don't think it was a complete failure," he said, trying to match her even tone. "They could still think they didn't really see Alison, they could think that was the mask, too."

"Yes, you did buy us some time."

"I planted the seed of doubt. That's all you wanted." He tried to keep his voice from sounding as defensive as he felt.

"I also wanted that mask for use in the future."

He held his tongue. He had plenty of thoughts on what he could say, but he decided he was in enough trouble as it was. He shifted the weight on his feet and switched the phone from one ear to the other.

"You just better hope they didn't see your eye."

He ran through his encounters in his head. It's possible Emily noticed this morning, but he wasn't even sure of that. "I don't think they did."

"I hope you're right. Now, get to work," she said, her voice dripping with mischief. "You need to show your face."

He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and immediately dialed another number. The secretary picked up.

"Hi," he said, using his sweetest tone, "I was just calling to say I might be running a little late. I was hoping someone could cover for me for an hour, tops."

"Sure thing," the secretary answered. "Just tell me who's calling, dear."

"It's Ezra. Ezra Fitz."


End file.
